This story begins on the bathroom floor. I was the kind of sick where I slept on the tile and didn’t care. I had determined I was dying of Listeria poisoning from the Caprese Salad I had eaten at the fancy Italian restaurant, and thought I should probably see the doctor before the long Memorial Day weekend. You know, to save my family from finding me dead on the bathroom floor. Too dramatic?
The doctor drew blood, since I hadn’t been in to see her in 6 years. Woops. I guess I’ve been busy keeping someone else alive.
She called on Tuesday with a sound of concern in her voice. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m all better. It must have been the flu after all.”
“Really? No more chills and fever and vomiting?
Because your labs do not match up with that. Your blood count is extremely low and we want you to have a hematology study done as soon as possible.”
Sensing her urgency, I probed, “What are you worried about?”
All I heard her say was, “Blah blah blah Leukemia.”
I made the appointment and we waited 9 long days for the test. I’ve realized 9 days is a loooonnng time when a mom hears the word Leukemia. My mind went to places that included my funeral, Mario’s remarriage, setting up full-time nursing for Reese. You know, the really dark places. Not good. But based upon the title of this story, you know I’m not dying. The test came back with blood counts in normal range.
In those 9 days, I learned a few things that I thought I should share. Because I have a need for my pain to be used for good in other people’s lives. It’s a thing.
Here’s the really deep part. Trusting God means trusting him with death. I realized it’s really easy for me to “Trust God” to heal me. And Reese. I have big faith and I know He can do anything. But to trust Him no matter what the doctor says—to trust God with life AND death—that is a stretch. To be able to say, If I die, I know you will take care of my family—that hurts. That one is hard. I have a child who depends on me for ev.ery.thing. And I have three teenagers (almost) and a husband that I adore and who need me. That took me to a place of ruthless trust.
I hate to say it, but I feel like I failed the test. My heart was beating out of my chest for nine days. I found myself crying in the shower. You may say, Oh that’s normal! It is unless we are not normal. I believe God allowed those 9 days for a purpose. To show me how out-of-joint I could become. “It is one thing to say, ‘Do not fret,” but something very different to have such a nature that you find yourself unable to fret. It is easy to say, ‘Rest in the Lord and wait patiently for Him’ until our own little world is turned upside down.” (Oswald Chambers)
I had moments where I surrendered it to God, where I felt total freedom to say, “Whatever you want, I trust you.” And then I had moments where fear overwhelmed me. And I believe God allowed me to see that what he wants for me is a nature that is unable to fret because I know that there is nothing He cannot handle—with or without me here on earth.
Yesterday, I listened to one of my favorite songs and my body cried, YES! It sums up what He taught me last week.
“Take me back to the place where my heart was only about you; and all I wanted was just to be with you. Come and do whatever you want to. Further and further my heart moves away from the shore; whatever it looks like whatever may come I am yours.” (Bethel Music)
Whatever it looks like, I trust you, God. My circumstances are not too much for you. I will not fret because I cannot fret because it is not in the nature of one who trusts God’s plans. That is peace. Oh yes.:)