Catching Up

I know it's been a while since I've posted.
I've been on a journey--I traveled north for 2 weeks, and it was certainly a memorable time.
A time to reconnect with my sister and her family,
then with dear college friends.
A time to travel down memory lane and reflect on what I was like as a child, a teenager, a college student
on how I've changed since then
and where God has brought me.

It was also a time of confirmation, signaling a life change: seeking a second opinion from a medical expert.
Finding out for sure that I have a chronic, debilitating, incurable disease
that I need to start treatment
that my prognosis is still very uncertain ...

yet a time of peace.
Of knowing that I am in good hands--both medically (being able to see a wonderful doctor) and practically.
Knowing that I am in God's hands,
and sorting through how I will react to this news, and any life changes that may ensue
what it looks like to do so with faith,
and "in His strength"--such a nebulous concept at times.

There is still so much uncertainty--
how will this affect our plans for the future?
What will I be able to do in a year, 5 years, 15 years?
Will I be frail and feeble before my time?
What IS my calling?
Are we to serve overseas? Here? Some of both?
Will our insurance really cover my incredibly expensive injections?
After enjoying years of good health, am I on the road to life in a wheelchair?
And if so, what is God's purpose in that?
How can I be a servant to others if I end up dependent on them for meeting even basic needs, if I feel like a burden?

Those are just a few of the things swirling around in my mind.
Along with frustration ... because I know from past experience that if I voice these concerns to others, I'm likely to get a lot of pat answers and platitudes:
"Well, you'll just have to trust God with that, won't you?"
"One step at a time."
"God knows what He's doing."

I hate responses like that. I know the people mean well, but it just feels so patronizing.
So I have some frustration of wanting to be able to share my journey, my questions, with others ... yet dreading "medical conversations" because I still don't handle the platitudes well.
I don't want to push others away by responding sensitively to their well-intentioned comforting attempts, yet I also don't want to stuff my feelings and paste on a smile and pretend their words really hit the spot. I don't want to be prickly and difficult, yet I don't want to be fake.
And truthfully, they did hit the spot ... but the wrong spot. They hit a bruise, still sore and tender from the time years ago when I first discovered how Romans 8:28 can be abused.

A counselor I know once said that when people share platitudes, it's really to make themselves feel better and not the person they are supposedly comforting. They want to slap a Band-Aid on it and say, "There, there, dear; it's OK." Then they can go on their merry way thinking, "I made it all better!" When what a hurting person often needs is a hug, and someone to patiently and compassionately listen as they share their pain, their struggles, how they're wrestling with making their theology their reality. Sure, there are times for comforting and encouraging Scriptures; but in many cases, the person knows the truth; what they need in that moment is to experience it. To get grace (from you) with truth (already in their heads) in the context of relationship. To know that it's OK to hurt and to feel sad, disappointed, or angry with God, to be seeking to discern God's leading in the situation.

Hmm.
You know, I didn't start this post intending to go off on that at all. It's something I talk about, sometimes too often, with my friends. But I guess that's because, despite all the time that's passed since this bruise was first created, it's still there.
And because I know I speak for countless hurting people--so many have shared the same story, and yet so many people--Christians especially--haven't gotten the message and still respond with the platitudes, blithely doing more harm than good. So I guess a part of me wants to keep sharing this message until it doesn't need to be shared any more. That's the counselor in me, I guess--wanting to spare others unnecessary pain. As well as, yes, looking out for my own feelings.

The thing is, on this recent trip, I did feel God refreshing me, restoring my soul.
Restoring my hope and joy.
Helping me see His grace in the midst of all this, how He truly is using the challenges, the trials, to reawaken my hunger for Him and draw me closer.
He even provided a very poignant reminder of what I was like before the first episode of my medical journey--of how vastly I've changed as a result. And mostly for the better. ;) He knew I needed that last week, to help me keep the new developments in perspective.
But somehow it's so much easier and more pleasant to experience that for myself ... than to have other people tell me that I should be experiencing it.

Yes, I know: I'm prickly. I'm sure there's a heaping measure of pride in that, in wanting my feelings validated rather than wanting to hear how I "should" respond if I'm a good Christian. Yet something I've also been learning recently is to acknowledge the rawness of my experience, the rough edges; not to hide the struggles and pretend that everything's peachy, but to admit to people (with discernment) when I'm hurting and struggling. And I guess all I'm asking for is to be able to do that without being brushed aside or patted on the head. Without others implying that if they were in my shoes, they would just rejoice and get on with life.

OK, so I am rambling, as I tend to do on this blog (and in life).
But thanks for listening. :)