I expected it to be an early morning: 5am, it was.
I expected the coffee machine at Children’s to boost my morning energy: the new machine was broken. 8am, no coffee.
I expected the appointments to discuss the main issues–balance, intestines and overall function–with a long list of things that can help for “future” changes: it did, but without the long list.
I expected my MRI results to come back reporting “stable” conditions, even though I have still experienced some physical changes, like numbness in the right hand: it did and I am thankful for no tumor growth.
I expected my doctor to want an MRI in another 4 months: he didn’t and left the choice to me. Next MRI is planned for mid-August (6 whole months!) 🙂
I expected all my questions to be answered: they were, along with much great conversation.
I expected to leave by lunch: 12pm, we did.
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Life is often lived in arrays of expectations. A day like today shines bright and hopeful; other days, the expectations fall into shadows of despair. And what of the expectations I hold for myself? I often feel the “need to perform” or “prove” to doctors that I am still doing my best possible. And though I did not struggle much with that today, there were still moments. And what of the Great Physician? Why do I feel the need to prove myself to God physically? He knows my body is broken. And he heals: maybe not in the ways I expect, but always in hope.
The hope of the righteous brings joy, but the expectation of the wicked will perish. ~Proverbs 10:28 ESV