This morning I had my long dreaded hospital follow up with Cardiology. (And by dreaded I mean I thought about canceling it no less than 936 times even while in the parking lot) Sitting in the waiting room looking at the other 29 people who were waiting to be seen I began to feel sorry for myself. It was obvious I was the youngest there by far, by no less than 30 years easily. I shouldn’t be here, I should be at work, complaining about being stuck at work, or knocking off the 19 things on my to do list, or out getting a pedicure with a glass of wine in my right hand and Facebook creeping my exes with my left one. Wherever I should be it shouldn’t be here in a cardiology waiting room triaging the other patients waiting in my head and guessing their probable diagnosis’s. But this is where I sit. It’s where life has brought me. It’s where God has brought me. Whether I like it or not.
I recently read a book written by one of my favorite Christian musicians, Laura Story called When God Doesn’t Fix It. Fitting right? In the book Laura recalls when her husband was diagnosed with a brain tumor, the complications that followed and how much her faith was tested. She is completely honest and transparent and admits to every time she doubted her faith and even God. That hit deep. Why? Because I like to ignore those feelings when they arise. I shove them deep down inside because who am I to question God? How dare I question my faith? It wasn’t until I was reading this book that I realized that that just might be my very problem. (Spoiler alert it’s not a might, it’s a YES That’s my problem exactly!!!) I’m afraid to admit to myself, to God and especially to other that I have my days of doubt. Instead of letting those feelings surface, I completely shut down. You can’t doubt your faith if you just choose to not acknowledge it at all right? Wrong.
The truth is I’ve never been more weak in my faith than I am right now. I’ve never felt more personally victimized by God than I do in this moment. I’ve trusted him from the beginning. Sitting in the ER almost a year a half ago listening to my physician tell me that there were abnormalities on my MRI and I needed to be admitted immediately to rule out MS, I trusted Him. I remained faithful, I praised Him, I trusted the journey. Later that same year, hearing that same physician say he was uncertain that I would ever walk again, I continued to trust Him, I continued to praise Him, I trusted that He wasn’t finished yet and that the journey was only beginning.Then when life started changing, and miracle after miracle begin to pour in and happen right before my very eyes, I trusted Him and praised Him and knew the journey would only be beautiful from here on out.The darkness was over. Which is why when I was lead to a new team of neurologist with a new treatment plan I knew it was good and things were only going to continue to get better and better. Which is why as time went on and life started returning to normal and by normal I mean really normal, like better than before normal, work was amazing, I felt better than I had in literally forever and it finally seemed like something was working and the future was full of endless possibilities I knew it was by his grace and that this was the “good” He promises us.
Until everything fell apart. Until I ended up back in an OR, then a week later back in the hospital, then a week later back in the hospital again and finally with the scary news that I now had some serious heart issues due to the miracle treatment that I just knew was going to fix everything. I don’t think I had ever felt my heart truly break until that moment.
You learn in nursing school the Kubler-Ross 5 stages of grief, you are taught how to empathize with those experiencing them and how the stages don’t all happen separately or individually, but what you don’t learn is what it truly feels like to experience 4/5 at the same time, in the same moment. I was heartbroken, pissed off, helpless, in denial and in utter shock at how cruel God could be. How could this God who promises only good allow me to become so happy and whole again only to absolutely demolish it in a matter of weeks? I had been faithful, I had been patient, I had trusted and found beauty in the freaking journey so why can’t I have my good? Why can’t I have a freaking moment to be okay?
The answer is simple. Especially in my life of constant medical jargon, 6 syllable words and vast uncertainties. The answer is because the journey isn’t over. The good that He promises still awaits, and the journey although broken, and twisted and dark is still beautiful and it’s only just begun. The truth is I may never be “fixed”, I may never be the “normal”I once was, I may never live out the pretty picture of a life I’ve dreamed about my enitire life. But I’ve been trusted and given this life for a greater purpose, that is yet to be discovered but does exist. Whether it’s to show others facing similar struggles that they can be faced or to be used as an example of how not to do it is yet to be determined. (;
-And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.