If you’ve been following, you’ll have read about my disastrous hernia repair this past November. Today, six months later, I think I’ve finally reached an understanding about why it’s been so life-threatening.
You see, since that incident, my Faith has been on Life Support.
It’s a combination of things that’s left me like this.
Obviously, there was the excruciating physical pain I experienced, and, now, fear of risking that agony again, even (and especially) by undergoing the elective, “normal life-restoring” kidney transplant.
Then there’s the absolute irony of “sailing” – so to speak – through several serious surgeries (i.e. open heart, having part of my colon removed) – only to be sunk by a routine, out-patient operation.
Mostly, though, it’s been emotional and spiritual stuff.
I’ve had a lot of doubt and anger at God for letting it happen to me, for putting me through it. I’ve lost my trust in Him. Doesn’t He promise not to harm me?
And I’ve been fretting over our financial future. For the past four years, I’ve been on disability. I’ve done some part-time, sit-down rideshare driving, but, otherwise, I haven’t had to work, to labor.
That would change a year after successful transplant when benefits would end.
And what about His plans to prosper? Three years of blogging for a mere two hundred followers? That’s not the fruitful ministry I envisioned for Sharing God’s Story.
I think I’ve found the answer in that last sentence – and it’s something that’s tripped me up many times before.
My Life is supposed to be on Faith Support.
I’ve been crying out about where You went, where You’ve been. But I took myself off Faith Support.
I’ve wanted to know how You will work this for my good – what are Your plans to prosper and not to harm me?
But that’s not how You work. My plans and Yours don’t always agree. Neither does Your timing. And which always ends up perfect?
I forgot the lessons You’ve brought me through these past ten years, and the absolute trust I had found at a few precious milestone moments along this crazy journey.
That is the kind of faith I need again: trust instead of fear, in spite of fear.
Help me to let go:
- of fear,
- of expectations on how You will work all things,
- of my plans for how You should work things,
- of life itself, (O yes, I do know how to do this)
- of the need to be the one to plan it all out
(that’s Your department)
Mine is to simply take one step – the next right step, by Your guidance – at a time.
Please shine Your light extra-brightly on what that is for today.
Like You always have.
Help me to see it, to be still, and to look and listen.