When the doctor messaged to say one of my test results was off and that she wanted to refer me to a specialist, my mind started to go nuts. I alternated between doomsday (what if this is it?), self-pity (why me?), and martyrdom (could I quietly and stoically beat this?).
You see, I’d been here before, in a doctor’s office, waiting for them to “tell me my fate” by possibly putting a label on me that (I wrongly thought) would tell me my chances for living a happy and healthy life. And, make no mistake, I’d always been PETRIFIED that the mysterious symptoms that plagued from time to time would finally catch me and have its way.
But this time was different. All of the same fears and questions were there, waiting to consume me if I so much as gave them one ounce of energy. But this time, I also felt something else rise up inside.
Where is your faith? I asked myself, as I went to my prayer closet and cried out to my heavenly father, in words no one else would understand. I looked at the wall of post-its of past prayer requests, reminding myself of the ways He showed up before and reminded myself He certainly would again. I rejected the notion that anything some human doctor said would be the “boss of me” and told myself this was really between me and God, no matter what.
When at last it was time for my follow-up with the specialist, I was armed with my faith scripture (2Kings 20:5), filled with thoughts of healing, and CONNECTED to the one who is always there through it all. I didn’t know what the doctor’s report would be (fortunately it was good), but I knew that with Him, no matter what, I wouldn’t have to walk alone. . . .
Love and blessings,
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