I really need to start writing in this thing as these events are happening to me. I would apologize, but, in reality, I'm not the least bit sorry that my first thought when feeling like I'm going to die/actually almost dying isn't usually "Hey! I better update my blog!"
If you don't feel like hearing anymore about my crazy illness-inducing revelations, feel free to stop reading right now...I won't be offended, I promise. This is mainly for my own sake anyway.
After my final release from the hospital (after all of the surgeries were finished), a friend from church asked me what I'd learned from all I'd been through. At first, it kind of seems like an odd question (Especially when you're only used to every adult within a 5 inch radius asking "Are you ok?? How are you feeling?"), but, if you think about it, I've managed to fill up a few full length blog entries about just some of the things I've learned by going through all this crap with Colitis, so I guess it was pretty astute of her to ask. This very smart woman then told me something I hadn't really thought of: "write it down. write down everything you've learned so you don't forget it."
DUH! Why didn't I think of that??
So that's what I'm doing. I've written down a lot already, but I've left out one of the most important revelations I feel I've experienced, and, as Satan fights me tooth and nail to distract me from staying in constant communion with God, I figure keeping visual reminders of these revelations lying around won't hurt and may help serve as proverbial ammo. So here it goes...
After first being diagnosed with Colitis, I wrote about what I'd then considered the lowest point I'd ever hit...well, this past summer I hit the new low...and it was terrifying.
The night before I first went to the first of three hospitals I'd be staying at over the next 3 months (for timeline's sake, I think it was around July 31st), I felt total and utter despondency. At that point, nighttime was always the worst because that's when I'd be woken up in the middle of the night by excruciating cramps that felt like someone was sticking a hot knife in my gut and sliding it around.
This particular night, the pain was bad...really bad. I remember crying and praying to God to please just take the pain away and, if it was His will, to please heal me. And then the thoughts occurred to me...
What if He says "no"?...
You could be in pain for the rest of your life...
God doesn't have to heal you...
He could let you die right now.
Needless to say, it was a pretty scary time. Satan was giving, what felt like, his all to try and tear my faith down and, to be honest, I felt like he was winning.
You see, throughout all of this crap with the colitis, I've tried really hard to stay positive and see the joy of God's work through the disease in my life, because that's what we're called to do, right? We're told to rejoice in our sufferings. Well, I felt like a failure because I wasn't rejoicing in the slightest. I wasn't positive. I was really really upset and really really in pain. I felt like I'd given up and failed God.
I talked to my parents about it the next morning and asked for advice, so my mom brought in a devotional that had been written in conjunction with
Psalm 84...this passage in particular stuck out:
Blessed are those whose strength is in you,
in whose heart are the highways to Zion.
As they go through the Valley of Baca
they make it a place of springs;
the early rain also covers it with pools.
They go from strength to strength;
each one appears before God in Zion.
The Valley of Baca, she explained, is also called the "Valley of Tears", and the devotional explained that even though we, as believers, go through these valleys of tears and pain, God is with us, carrying us from strength to strength....in other words, as God continues to grow us (taking us from one strength to the next), we will go through crap; however, He will always be with us (even when we can't "feel" Him) and will make us stronger on the other side.
This was really helpful to hear and after she prayed with me and I had some time to think about things on my own, it also brought to mind something I'd read earlier that week by C.S. Lewis in A Grief Observed, the book he wrote after his wife died.
He writes,
From the rational point of view what grounds has Helen's death given me for doubting all that I believe? Should it, for a sane man, make quite such a difference as this? No. And it wouldn't for a man whose faith had been real faith. The case is too plain. If my house has collapsed at one blow it is because it was a house of cards. Indeed, it's likely enough that what I shall call, if it happens, a 'restoration of faith', will turn out to be only one more house of cards.
It was exactly what I was going through!
I'd spent so much time "trying to stay positive" because, obviously, it was up to me to have strong faith and be Pauline and joyous in my sufferings. God forbid I ever feel small or weak during this illness because then I would be letting God down! I couldn't let God know that I had those feelings because then this strong faith that I'd built up for myself would be a failure!
(Yeah...thinking it through then and reading it again now, it was as stupid as it sounds and none of it Biblically warranted.)
My faith was a house of cards! Not the fundamental things of importance like believing in Christ as my savior, trusting in His grace and forgiveness for my salvation, etc., but the fact that, all this time, I'd been relying on myself and thinking "Man, I'm staying so positive. God must be so proud of all that I'm doing to rejoice in my sufferings during these crappy times! I, I, I, me, me, me". I had totally built that "faith" and "reliance on God" on the sinking sand of self reliance, and all it took was one little puff of breath from God to knock it down and show me, It's not about you...Rely on me. Let's start over and build it again, this time on the rock instead of the sand.
God helped me realize that I needed to let go of the pride I'd been clinging to and just fall into His arms and relax in His presence. Yes, I had been going through crap times, and yes, I will no doubt go through many more, but it's not up to me to make sure I'm staying strong all by myself...I need to
be strong in the Lord and in His mighty power (
Eph. 6:10).
Now, as Lewis notes, my next billion or so houses will, no doubt, also prove to be houses of cards that, in times of faith-refinement, will topple over, but, as the psalmist said, each time one falls, God will carry me from strength (old house) to strength (the next house). Each time one house falls, the next one grows stronger and will continue to do so until my house has been completely perfected (i.e. when I'm finally called home to my creator).
And THAT is an awesome feeling. Not knowing that I'm going to be constantly failing for the rest of my life (that was a given already), but knowing that God is using these failures to constantly make my faith stronger and bring me closer to Him.
Little did I know that the next day I would be told by my G.I. that my systems were shutting down and that I would require hospitalization, but by then, I didn't even care...I was actually happy, because from that point on, everything (from multiple hospitalizations to almost dying again to being told point-blank that a complete colectomy was my only option) seemed like nothing. God brought me to the refining fire within that valley of tears and brought me out stronger than ever on the other side, and I felt ready for anything. And, now that I've gotten through the whole colitis thing, I can honestly say that that feeling was not without merit; God truly has and can get me through anything.
So, that's what I learned...Like I said, this is mainly a reminder for me. If I don't make an effort to remember the lessons God's taught me, what's to stop me from forgetting/ignoring them and backsliding? If anyone else happens to come across this and glean something from it, cool. The Holy Spirit works in awesome ways and, most effectively, without my knowledge (which is for the best since God knows my ego doesn't need any boosting in thinking I have anything to do with it).
I'll write more soon, I promise.
until then,
mjl.
