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I think my mom and dad will be surprised to hear that a gift they gave me more than two decades ago is something Jennifer and I turn to often in dealing with the daily realities of multiple sclerosis.

I’m surprised myself.

After all, when you get confirmed in the Lutheran church, it’s expected that you’ll receive some sort of religious memorabilia commemorating the event. You know: it usually is something like a cross to hang on your wall, a religious plaque to set on your desktop or special coin to carry in your pocket to remind you that God loves you.

Mine was a red prayer book that has moved with me throughout Iowa and Michigan in a silver, black and white shoebox – like an honorary piece of luggage that accompanied me every time I changed my mailing address.

I always remembered “The Lutheran Book of Prayer” was in the shoebox, but it wasn’t until I was diagnosed with this chronic illness that I dug out the book and took its contents to heart. Looking in the table of contents, under the heading “During Illness” I discovered the prayer that has given me the strength I need to positively move forward through my life with MS.

And now, it’s a prayer that Jennifer and I read most nights before we got to bed, and we wanted to share it with you in hopes that it may provide you comfort in your life:

Gracious God, help Jennifer and me to accept your will in our illness. As your children we believe that you cause all things to work together for our good, both of body and of spirit. But sometimes in the midst of illness and pain we forget or doubt. Forgive our weak faith. When we become impatient, encourage us by your word. Despite our worries and suffering, help us by our lives to reflect the radiance and confidence of those certain of your promises of help. Restore us to sound health if it be your will, and enable us with new vigor and enthusiasm to serve you zealously for many years to come. Give us your Holy Spirit that we may always witness joyfully to our Christian faith before men and women, confessing that all life, on earth and in heaven, is a gift from you. O Lord, have mercy. Hear our prayer for Jesus’ sake. Amen.

Since I was diagnosed with MS, I’ve never asked God, “Why me?” Rather, I continue to tell God, “Help me.” And I’ve learned he’s always here, I just need to be open to where he’s offering a helping hand.

Even if it’s in a silver, black and white shoe box.

As I’m closing in on 10 years since I first learned that I most likely had MS, here’s a previous reflection about a rendezvous I had with my “mistress” on our anniversary …

As we stroll down Chicago’s Christmas-decked Michigan Avenue, you squeeze my hand and remind me that this day is our second anniversary. Not the anniversary that formally solidified our future together, but the anniversary of the day we were introduced.

In these two years you faithfully have been with me every day, and my mind can’t stop thinking about you. Thinking about what you do for me each day of my life, and dreaming of what our future holds. Just as parents in some cultures decide on the unions of their children, it was two years ago this day that I first was told that you likely would be with me till death do we part.

“The radiologist said the cause of your symptoms most likely is multiple sclerosis,” my physician told me over the phone at 9:25 a.m. that day, exactly one week from Christmas Eve. Our relationship officially was confirmed by my neurologist on Valentine’s Day. What a fitting day to remember the one that will be with you through everything - from here to eternity. Unconditionally.

But it is our first date that I remember most. How with one telephone call you altered my life. And two years is quite some time for this close a relationship. Granted, we’ve had our fallouts and spats, but in the end, I’m reminded that you’ll never leave me, and I can never leave you. So we deal with it and move on with our life.

While most unions utilize wedding bands to remind the couple of their commitment, you’ve added a twist to that tradition and have made my hands constantly numb, as though they have fallen asleep. An unwavering reminder that I am yours, you are mine.

We walk amid the noon pedestrian traffic, against the flow. You hamper my strides because you want to go back to our hotel room and spend some time in bed. You think we’ve done enough for today. You let me go out with some friends for lunch and so far you haven’t said too much about me drinking a beer. But I insist on going to the downtown music store in search of rare-to-find Springsteen gems.

We scour the Virgin record store, and much to your delight, we don’t find anything worth buying. You hate it when I find good music. It makes you so jealous because if only for a little while, I forget about you and our relationship. I don’t know why you worry. I’m not going anywhere.

We meet some friends who are attending the same conference we are. They’re walking a little faster than you would like us to, but I remind you that by walking our slower pace, they’ll become suspicious of what we have going on together.  

I think about how monumental this day is for us and how I want to share the milestone with them, but I know they won’t understand. You are like my mistress - I just call you “Ms.” And while others know about us, it would make them uncomfortable if I revealed intimate details of our relationship. No one but us can truly appreciate this moment.

One more workshop, and the day’s conference activities are over. I convince you that we can go out for a night on the town with my friends. You plead to celebrate the anniversary alone in our room, order some room service, and go to bed early. But I want to go out one last time and make the most of our anniversary.

We go with friends to an Italian restaurant, and I order the Italian sausage dish. And a beer. You didn’t do too much to me following my luncheon pilsner, so I anticipate you will lower the boom with excessive fatigue after a Heineken for dinner. But let’s be real about this. I am in the mood to order a second beer just to spite you, but it is the price I have to pay the waiter, not you, that keeps me from indulging on our anniversary.

Dinner is over, and we continue visiting with my friends. You’re getting anxious to get back to the hotel. All you want to do is get me in bed. But I’m enjoying myself on the town tonight.

I’m so committed to denying you, on the walk back to the hotel, I stand in line for nearly an hour for some cheese-flavored popcorn. Hey, everybody else was waiting in line outside the store, and my friends and I just had to get a taste of this highly sought-after treat. You’re like a whiny little kid pulling on my pant leg because you want to go home. You make my feet burn with numbness as I stand in line. “Whatever,” I think.

Alas, we make it to the hotel room, and much to your delight, I change into my shorts and T-shirt and pull down the sheets. Finally, you seem content. My hands and feet still are numb because you like to hold a grudge. But you’re not making anything else worse.

So we turn off all the lights but one, crawl into bed, and watch Monday Night Football - the Saints against the Rams. You even allow me the energy to stay up for the whole game. That, or my adrenaline has overpowered you because I have two of my fantasy football league players going tonight.

So here’s to two years. A constant struggle? No, not constant. But more often than I’d like. I’ll admit it: You’ve made me a better man because you’ve enabled me to put everything in my life into the proper perspective. And when I can’t do that and feel you overtake my will and spirit, I find strength to overpower you through another fantasy in my life: That someday, they’ll come and take you away. Let’s be honest: I, and nearly a third of a million Americans, don’t deserve you.

Happy anniversary, Ms. 

We were toying with the idea of posting a blog that ties up some loose ends, and inspired by the recent post on Brain Cheese, here are some of the things we’ve been meaning to tell you:

Bruce didn’t play “For You.” Despite our valiant efforts from the not-so-cheap seats, Springsteen didn’t see our sign and play “For You” when we saw him at the Palace Nov. 13. But no hard feelings. He, along with the “heart-stopping pants-dropping house-rocking earth-shaking booty-quaking Viagra-taking love-making legendary E Street Band” instead gave us nearly three hours of rock and roll insanity, highlighted by a performance of the entire Born to Run album. Thanks for everything, Bruce.

123 days and counting. Michigan native Joe Fairchild has been running across America to raise money and awareness for Multiple Sclerosis. According to his news release, “Though covering 25-30 miles most days is a challenge, to Joe the journey is about much more than a physical feat. He will be making the journey alone, pushing all of his essentials—a tent, sleeping bag, clothes, food, water—in a modified baby stroller.” Now 2,415 miles into his trip, he’s hoping to reach Los Angeles by the end of the year. Learn more about him and his journey at runsomemore.com.

Coverage in the media. The beginning of December brought a one-two punch of excellent media coverage of our efforts to increase awareness of MS and inspire others living with the disease. It started on Dec. 2 when we learned that our friend Lindsay Allen featured us in her guest blog “Dan and Jennifer Digmann: Fighting MS, hand-in-hand, one day at a time” on Justin case you were wondering. Thanks, LA! Then, two days later Central Michigan Life ran the story, “Mount Pleasant couples copes with multiple sclerosis, inspires others with disabilities.” Thanks to the reporter Jake Bolitho and photographer Ashley Miller! We appreciate all your support in helping to get the message out.

We cleaned up a little bit. To add the above media coverage to our “In the news” section, we took a little time to clean up our blog, which included adding Michael Gerber’s blog, Perspective is Everything, to our home page. We enjoy his writing and, well, his perspective and we encourage you to check it out regularly. We also added Dina Kawer’s blog, How Will I Get Back Down?, to share with you her inspirational story of climbing historic Masada, despite her MS. Or perhaps it was to spite her MS. We had the honor of meeting her at the NMSS annual meeting a few weeks ago and hope you have a few minutes to read her story.

Little did we know. Yeah, come to find out our parents knew we were going to receive the MS Achievement Award all along. Apparently they had been informed of the award so they would do their part to encourage us to attend the annual meeting in Livonia. So this is why Dan’s mom offered to pay for a hotel room for us to make it an easier decision to go and why Jennifer’s parents were eager to say they’d go with us so Dan didn’t have to drive the whole way. They keep good secrets. No wonder we never knew what we were getting for Christmas :-) And a cherry on top of the MS Achievement Award? Jennifer’s Walk MS team, Team MonsterS, also was recognized at the annual meeting as the 40^th of the top 100 fundraising teams of 2009 for the National Sclerosis Society, Michigan Chapter. Go MonsterS!

There! All loose ends, tied up …