As I'm sitting here writing, I'm contemplating what my future with fibromyalgia might look like. If I allow myself, I can become anxious by wondering what changes lie ahead for me. As a woman of faith, I work on turning my health and future over to the one who holds it in his hands. That doesn't mean it's an easy thing to do. I've recently had some bloodwork done and the results are a bit concerning to me. If I focus on that, the stress may put me in a flare. But it's not realistic to think that my future doesn't matter. Stress and worry are normal, and I'm not trying to act as though they don't exist. I don't, however, want to give them power, either. I'm concerned that if my husband were to die before me, I would be unable to live on my own. My debilitating fatigue, which keeps me in bed, unable to cook, shop, or clean house, is a serious issue I would be facing alone. Borrowing trouble is never a good idea, but I do want to have a contingency plan in place. Limitations will become the norm for most of us as we age, but I'm already seeing those. It was incredibly humbling to go from needing a cane to needing a rollator and now to a wheelchair, some of the time. Having chronic fatigue syndrome with my fibro means I also have post-exertional malaise. Even simple things like washing my hair or unloading the dishwasher send me back to bed. I'm so thankful to be able to do so many things online these days: things like shopping, borrowing library books, learning in general, watching streaming channels on my tablet, but most importantly, being a part of a community of fellow warriors.