I woke up early Thanksgiving morning and wrote a blog post giving thanks to God for healing me. Later that day I started to feel chilled and crummy. Really? Really God?
Friday we were supposed to have my husband’s kids and grand kids over to celebrate Thanksgiving; instead I donned a hospital mask and The Hubs and I headed to urgent care.
My heart was on the floor
During the month of October I consistently wore hospital masks when I went out in public to protect myself against the bugs because I have developed immunodeficiency from chemotherapy.
Yet despite the precautions I took, there we sat. If this had been an isolated event my spirit would not have been crushed but I have been in and out of hospitals and ER’s for 16 years.
The past few weeks were a blur of blue lips, inhalers, antibiotics, steroids and sleeping with my Bible in my bed. It was incredibly difficult to breathe and I wondered if this was the end of my journey.
My husband, parents and sister’s family poured life giving words over me. I forced myself to press into gratitude for seemingly small things: the soft blanket my sister gave me 2 years ago, the pretty trees outside our window, our dog, our peaceful home, my family’s unconditional love.
One night I threw a magnificent pity party for myself. I sat in our bed with my journal and Bible in my lap, tears streaming down my face and cried out to God. And this time I heard His voice in reply. It was not an audible voice but it was clear and spoke directly to my heart, not the words I would have picked.
I cried something along the woeful lines of “all these years my friends have grown families and careers and the only thing that has been consistent in my life is that I have been sick for 16 years”...
I heard “And I have been there”.
I got quiet because, well I wanted to wallow in pity and what do you say when you hear that truth bomb?
I was like “well yes, but still…”
I heard “And your family has been there” “And you have had shelter”.
I smiled faintly and said, “OK. You win”.
Then I curled up with my Bible and went to sleep.
It was not smooth sailing after that night. In fact the weeks were riddled with complication and heartbreak as I crawled through mud to regain health.
I often think of those words God gave me that night to calm my broken heart. Immunodeficiency with no end in sight does not seem fair and it can feel frightening. But those words were peaceful, true and gentle in the midst of my distress.
My goal was to be well by Christmas and I am happy to say that I will meet that goal. I am also believing big for miracles in 2018.
*For the record — the past 16 years have actually been filled with incredible experiences. Yes illness has been a part of my story, but not all of it.
“Call upon Me in your day of trouble; I shall rescue you, and you will honor Me.”