I’ve tried to write it. And I’ve tried to explain it. And I just can’t. Words won’t flow onto paper. They just won’t come. And I’ve wasted six months trying to make it work. And so for now, I’m letting it go. And I’m trusting that when the moment is right, the Holy Spirit will ink my quill, and words will form and I will finally be able to tell you the story. Because I want to tell you the story. But for now, I just want you to know that He healed me. For an entire year, He healed me. And the disease was gone. The disease I hated so much. The disease that caused so much pain. The disease they told me I would forever have, it was gone. And they couldn’t find it in CT’s or MRI’s or blood tests. Everything came back perfect. And it was the most wonderful year. I did things I had forgotten how to do. I ate food that I never thought I would be able to eat again. I celebrated. I stayed up late and woke up early. I was strong. I worked full time. I traveled. I saw friends I had given up on seeing, much due to the many miles between us. I felt, and I saw, and I experienced with so much depth and color. The sun set differently. And leaves fell intentionally. And laughter was heard with so much intensity. And the smile I saw on faces shined brighter than any full moon. I was not just living, I was alive. And it was beautiful. And I will never let go of that year.
But now, its back. And just as quickly as it left my body, it returned. And I don’t know why its back. And I can’t decide if the hurt is in my bones or in my heart. And that’s OK. There are nights when the pain is so real that I wake up gasping for relief. And there are nights when the cries are so loud that I think surely my neighbors will hear. And there are nights when His presence is so thick, that even the densest fog cannot compare. The disease came back, but my Jesus never left me. And despite the ever present reminder that I am sick, so is the ever present reminder that He is here.
It’s a strange time. So much of me wants to ask God where, where are you taking me? So much of me wants the road map. I want to see what and who and where and why. I want to have a tangible thread I can see sewn into the tapestry of my life. But as aware as I am of these deeper waters, as aware as I am that change is coming, that restoration, rebuilding, reformation is coming so am I aware that He is here to send me on a turning point. I can feel it. And I want so much, in my excitement, in my nervousness to know where. But as clearly as He has told me I am to go to deeper waters He has also told me I am not to know the name. It is not in my path to see the name. It is only in my path to follow. Step. By. Step. By step. By step. I walk. I hear the crunching of earth trodden at my feet. I hear those who holler for me to stop and stay awhile. I hear the noises from behind beckoning me back and the noises in front of me. Those noises with their scare tactics. Those noises that try to frighten me to look back. To turn around. But all the while I hear Him. I am rebuilding. I am remaking you. Even as you sit here I am remaking you.
He makes all things new.
My prayer for this new year is that I will trust Him. My prayer is that I will not turn away because of fear or the allure of security. My prayer is that I will entrust my whole heart in a heart of surrender. That I will know the One who knows me best. And by doing so I will know myself all the better.
He is calling me to deeper waters. And I will go. Because wherever He is, there I am safest. Even in disease. Even in the unknown. Even in pain. Even in confusion. Wherever He is, there I am safest.
I am not just living, I am alive. And it is beautiful. Even in disease. Even in the unknown. Even in pain. Even in confusion. Wherever He is, there I am safest, and thus, life abounds.