“Oh my God, what if you wake up
some day, and you’re 65, or 75, and you never got your memoir or novel written;
or you didn’t go swimming in warm pools and oceans all those years because your
thighs were jiggly and you had a nice big comfortable tummy; or you were just
so strung out on perfectionism and people-pleasing that you forgot to have a
big juicy creative life, of imagination and radical silliness and staring off
into space like when you were a kid?
It’s going to break your heart.
Don’t let this happen.”
~Anne Lamott
I
haven’t written on here in a long while.
I write to process, to remember, to mark the goodness of God in my
life. I love stories—to hear them and to
share them.
I
share this bit of background or preface because I think it is necessary to
point to solid truths the Lord has been reminding me of this week. I had been having various health issues (not
serious) that all kind of came to a point this last week, resulting in three
procedures being scheduled to hopefully conclude some answers to move forward
with being a healthy twenty-five year old.
Full disclosure: I was overwhelmed, anxious, dreading it, feeling weak,
fighting my pride in needing to receive help, calling it my “brave week” to
make myself walk through it, and received LOTS of encouragement and truth and
love from several dear ones in my life.
Once again, evidence of grace and strength that does not come from me.
I
thought the hardest part was over and went in for my last set of procedures,
sarcastically joking with a friend about all the risks you must read over
before being sedated. Our last text went
something like this:
“The last risk for each of these
tests is death haha. Well, I’ll see ya
on the flip side.” “It’s been
real.”
Little
did I know, I’d come a little closer to that than expected. I had a breathing complication coming out of
the anesthesia and sedation, which resulted in being put on life support for a
day. This seems surreal even still, but
by the grace of God, I am obviously okay and recovering well on my way back to
normal. This background, however is not
the focus or point of this story. It’s
just the spring board to so many beautiful things impressed upon my heart.
First,
the verse in Proverbs 16:9 keeps replaying in my head, even while in the
hospital. “The heart of man plans his
way, but the Lord establishes his steps.”
Let’s be real, though, I was frustrated and remember saying “This was
not in my plans!” Then, this truth
settled in my mind and provided a refuge in my heart, knowing that our good
Father is in control. At first, that
stripping and realizing I am not actually in control of my life and breath did
not feel good or comforting…instead, it was sobering and forced me to turn my
eyes up to the Lord.
Second,
the reality that life is a precious, one-time gift is more true and real to me
now. A renewed passion and energy to
live fully and love deeply and enjoy the littlest things and taste the good and
hard of life and to live with purpose, all sprinkled with a thankfulness in my
heart. We really are not guaranteed
tomorrow, but the One who holds every future is good and gracious. The words from the song “Great are You, Lord”
have been replaying in my mind—“You give life, You are love, You bring light to
the darkness. You give hope, You restore
every heart that is broken. Great are
You, Lord. It’s Your breath in our
lungs, so we pour out our praise to You only.”
I want to live pouring out praise in the way I speak, serve, think,
love, and interact. Thankful to be held
by grace that enables any of this to happen.
Third,
the sweetest, most tangible picture of the hands and feet of Jesus. I am beyond blessed and amazed. These people, my people, here. I was never alone, even when I had no idea
what was going on. Multiple friends were
willing to stay the night with me. They
canceled plans, work shifts, family time, advocated and communicated for me,
slept in hard hospital chairs, helped calm me down over and over again, talked
to me, listened to me say I wanted to go home 1000 times, encouraged me, helped
me be brave, held my hand, prayed and got people far and near to pray, played
worship music for me, stayed with me to
remind me I was not alone, opened their home to me, made me meals, checked
in, man—I could go on and on. I really can’t express the impact this
has had and continues to have on my heart.
These gifts point to the beautiful Giver who loves more than I can
imagine and corrects my distorted ways of thinking by showing His truth and
love to me.
All
the grace. All the feels. What a week to process. I am forever grateful for my Savior and the
life He gives. I am thankful for a
wake-up call and reminder to not just go through the motions of daily life, but
to joyfully breathe in the gift of life—on hard days and the best days
alike. Every week can be a “brave week”
because He is our brave.
“I can say every valley made me
lift my eyes up; every burden only made me stronger. Every sorrow only made Your joy go deeper and
deeper.
I will run like I’m out to win and
finish the race. For every battle that’s
sure to come, I will be brave. I’ve got
my heart set on every word You say, and no matter what lies ahead, You’ll make
a way…
Every mountain is making me a
climber; every giant is calling out a fighter.
Every heartache only makes Your love go deeper and deeper. Deeper and deeper.”
~Meredith Andrews
