You’ve probably read the stories before…
Someone’s life is changed forever, turned upside down, and in it all—they continued to breathe, for at times that seemed the only possible. Yet living within the new walls of change, they strain in tears to carry on…a new path to be taken, a new mindset (perspective of priorities), renewing a sense of purpose while clinging to hope.
This, my friends, has been my past two weeks…but my story is still somewhere in the mist of all the change; it is still tossed by waves of frustration, loneliness and darkness. I am waiting for Jesus to speak, “Peace be still.” and rebuke the wind and waves…but He asks of me, where is my faith? I must answer that question and cling to hope—yes, God is bigger than my current woes and yes, it is okay to struggle through them.
The last week of February, one day before my friend was to visit for the weekend, I fell in the night as I entered the bathroom…not to say that the fall initially changed everything (because signs of left leg not holding weight had appeared here and there previous), but at that night, I entered full dependency.
Of course, this did not change me and Calli’s plans. We were college roommates and enjoyed looking at pictures from those days, a chocolate chip pancake brunch, reading, showing her around the area and a snow day, in which we painted. Crying when she was leaving that Monday, I told her, “God knew I needed you here.” We all did and as she left, my sister Megan arrives, then all the rest of my family over the weekend…and I held my sweet little nephew, until my arms fell off.
Yet my body continues to spiral, down. It has changed everything—it is not just my eyes or hands or intestines or legs and feet, but it all and that is where I feel overwhelmed. It has changed the way we communicate, responsibilities, daily life. I can no longer walk by myself, use the bathroom and do other hygiene by myself, let alone all from before anyway; most of all, vision. I am now as dependent on my magnified glass as I am my walker and others. That is the physical, but what I am challenged more so, is the mental. Realizing what I want to do and finish might already be complete in God’s eyes, thus He leads a new path.
I don’t understand yet what my calling is as I journey ahead—it is something that I am seeking, learning in new perspective…in the pain and sadness and confusion.
The hope in the storm: God answers. “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you; plans to give you hope and a future.” Jeremiah 29:11