I'm a survivor

In case we don't talk often or you don't use twitter, long story short- I have a stress fracture in my leg. This was determined through a bone scan I had done last week. I should note that during the bone scan, there was a complication with the injection and my vein swelled and leaked a lot of blood. The pictures are a bit graphic, but you can see some on my Twitpic stream over the past week. I'm fine now; it was the equivalent of a bad bruise.

Today as I was in the doctor's office, he mentioned that he wanted to do more blood work, but quickly brushed it off and said, "don't worry about doing it today, you can wait a few weeks." But I insisted that I'd rather get it done today and get the results back sooner. He explained that he didn't want to pressure me into doing it so soon given my bad experience last week at the bone scan. I told him I wasn't concerned.

He asked why it was that I had such a good attitude about all of this. I suppose I should have credited faith or God or Jesus or something, but the first thing that came to mind is what I said: "I work in marketing. It's my job to see the good in things." And that's true.

But perhaps moreover, it's because- especially where health is concerned- I believe in principles of survival. I've always leaned towards the fatalistic, but in some ways that's made me optimistic. Let me explain. Bad stuff happens. Bad stuff happens in spite of justice, in most cases. You don't deserve it, but you equally don't deserve to avoid it. Sometimes by accepting that, you are mentally prepared to tackle the situation at hand. It's how we survive. More importantly- it's how we progress and become stronger as individuals and as a society.

What can I say, I'm a naturalist at heart, and these are my rambling thoughts tonight. :)

Return to the scene of the crime

Each week we have a theme, and tell a few stories along that theme...

In case you don't know, I love This American Life, and one reason is because of the range of stories that can all be told along the same theme. So, I have decided each week I will jack one of their show themes and play my own riff, if you will.

Act I- Return to the Scene of the Crime

I have spent probably three months of my life at Mercy Hospital in Oklahoma City. Over a few of years that's not a lot of time, but when you consider it was in two chunks and some of the worst days of my life, the time feels much longer.

Graciously, many of those days I don't remember, thanks to the passage of time and the beauty of pain medication. But it never fails that when I return to that hospital, my senses catapult me back and memories flow freely that are otherwise repressed.

I smell the hand sanitizer, hear the beeping of IV machines, walk by the surgical waiting room, and my stomach lurches and breath quickens as the anxiety clutches my chest a little tighter.

But then I stop, take a breath, and remember that I'm here on the other side. And with each trip to return to the scene of the crime, I walk away a little stronger, a lot more grateful, and more healed.

Healing

Part 2 of 2

Healing. If you want to talk about a bitter-sweet word in my life, that would be it.

If I were asked to define "healing" free from context, I would describe it as a coming back to wholeness from a state of brokenness. In theory, it has such a natural, soothing sentiment and conjures peaceful feelings within.

But once you start to unpack what healing is to different people in different circumstances, you find the path to wholeness comes in different venues.

In my own life, this was more or less the path of healing over nine painful months.

1. My illness growing to the point that it was undeniable something was wrong and needed treatment
2. Doctor consultations
3. Endless tests (CT, x-ray, scopes, blood tests)
4. Medications (again, too many to list)
   
5. Central line IV nourishment in place of eating
6. A chest tube
   
7. Surgery
8. A feeding pump
9. Blood transfusions
10. Prayer- didn't necessarily come last, it was interspersed throughout the process

If you were to ask me what healed me, I would say the sovereignty of God*. If you were to ask me how I were healed, I'd elaborate into the aforementioned process.

I believe firmly in the supernatural power of God to heal. I know those who have experienced it and within a moment their afflictions were gone. I believe the Lord not only wants us to pray for healing, but commands it in James 5. And I believe when we pray for healing we should pray boldly and with faith (I have written about this before here).

Sometimes healing is instantaneous. Sometimes healing is a process. Sometimes a medicine, a surgery, a diagnosis. Sometimes it is death.

When healing is talked about in the church, it seems that there are two scriptural aspects to physical healing that we sometimes forget.

One is that healing, even when performed by Jesus, was always incomplete. Everyone Jesus healed, even those He raised from the dead, died again. At this point in the great story, only Christ has received the complete healing that conquers death. But it is because of that promise and hope that we know we can receive our complete healing at the end of time.

The second forgotten aspect of scriptural healing is that even once we're healed, we still show the scars. Jacob limped after wrestling God, Jesus' scars remained after his resurrection, and even Paul claimed to bear the marks of Christ on his body. And it seems to me that rather than being marks of shame, they were marks of victory. Like I said in my last post on illness, trauma changes you. Maybe it's supposed to, and the scars you carry are the witnesses to your testimony.

It is much easier to write these things two and a half years out of my last health crisis. There are so many questions I still have and things I don't know. To give the impression that I have reached complete understanding and peace with my own physical trials would be a lie. But two of the things I know for sure are that God has given me a testimony to share and scars to always remind me of my healing.

*I have come to answer this when I talk about the whys of why I survived. One thing I was firmly convicted of throughout my illness and still is that God was good, merciful and gracious regardless of what happened to me, so I will not attribute my healing to His goodness, but instead His sovereignty.

Emmanuel, an anniversary and reflection

Speaking of perspective...

Today as I made the drive from Oklahoma to Texas, I suddenly remembered that on this day two years ago, December 23, 2005, I also made the trip from OKC to T-town. Circumstances were much different then.

I was weak and fragile, having at that point endured six months of illness, two months in the hospital, and a major surgery. I weighed about eighty five pounds and didn’t have an ounce of fat on me, and could only walk a few steps. But I was alive. That trip home didn’t mark the end of my battle with my health; in many ways, the worst was still ahead.

But in this season to remember Emmanuel, God with us, I found it very poignant to think about how far God has brought me in two short years, in health, maturity, experience, and spirit. I have learned that there is a strength in me I never imagined-- not so much in my own spirit but in the Spirit of God within me.

This is the season to celebrate incarnation—God with us. One Christmas song that’s been on my mind lately repeats this chorus:

For the God who spoke is speaking still
And the God who came still comes
And the miracle that happened still happens in the heart that will believe
And receive the miracle of Christmas

The miracle of Christmas is that we have a God who joins us in life. The God who brought me through my illness two years ago is the same God and same strength that empowers me to live each day guided by His Spirit. God is with us.

May God bless you with fresh eyes to see and experience Him with you.

July 2

July 2nd is a pretty significant date for me. In 2003, July 2nd is the day I left the hospital after a surgery and five week stay. In 2005, I left Japan and came back to America on July 2nd. Both were very bittersweet. In 2003 I was just beginning the recovery process and still had a long way to go. When I left Japan my heart was broken, but I was so happy to be going home to my family. As you can see, they seem to fall every other year, so I was a little nervous as July 2, 2007 approached. :) But, thank God, this year all is well. It's good to have these little milestones to remember how far God's brought me.