A few weeks ago I was back at my least favorite place - the Mayo Clinic waiting room. I’ve been there on and off over the past four years both as a caregiver and as a patient and I’ve hated it every single time. It’s not that the Mayo isn’t a wonderful establishment… it’s just that I’m never there for fun.
But before we get to that - let’s take a trip back to yesteryear. In 2017, I developed severe anxiety and OCD. It had been increasingly taking over my life since the death of my dad, my miscarriage, surgery, and caregiving for my mother-in-law, and then shortly after she passed away I really lost it. At the time, my husband was at a week-long training for work and I had an anxiety attack so severe that I was incapacitated on my kitchen floor. My mom drove three hours to come and pick me up, and that was the turning point. I called my doctor for medication and began therapy and - by God’s grace - since then, I’ve been mentally very stable.
That said, something else I rarely talk about is that I’ve also suffered from a chronic pain condition for about the same amount of time; one that I’ve seen no less than five doctors for, had two surgeries for, and tried numerous medications and holistic healthcare remedies for. It’s been exhausting, depressing, and you know… painful.
Well, this month I was referred to a new doctor at Mayo who wanted to get me off of the anti-anxiety med I’ve been on since my world imploded in 2017 to see if I had developed some kind of freak allergy to it that could be responsible for the nerve pain. I agreed to go off the anti-anxiety med, hoping that (miracle of miracles) the solution could be so simple! Wouldn’t that be great?! PLUS, I figured that the anxiety had just been a situational thing - so I should be fine now, right?
Spoiler: my anxiety is back with a vengeance, my pain didn’t go away, and to top it off my doctor also suggested scheduling an appointment with an infertility doctor because we’ve been trying for over a year with no success.
Now - I’m not writing all of this to say, “WOE IS ME! Pity me, dear reader!” I’m writing it because all month I’ve felt like a TOTAL FAILURE.
I can’t manage my thoughts. I can’t control my emotions. I can’t cope with regular stressors. I can’t seem to breathe normally. I can’t deal with my life without medication. I can’t seem to have enough ‘faith’ that this pain will end or that my fear will be removed. I can’t do the one thing a woman’s body is designed to do. I can’t. I can’t. I can’t.
Satan has whispered these lies in my ear- breath hot and close. And like all of his lies, they are rooted in a bit of truth.
Because truthfully - I can’t.
But God can. He can calm my thoughts and emotions. He can help me to cope with my stressors. He is the breath of life. He is the maker of the minds who came up with and prescribe medicine. He is the giver of faith and peace. He is the designer and creator of my body. He can. He can. He can.
And I don’t mean that in a trite way - that God will instantly take away all pain, or mental health disorders, or chronic illnesses, or injuries, or infertility, or loss, or grief, or addiction, or hurt (although he very well MAY and that is worth asking for!)
But I do know that God heals. Whether here or in eternity. Whether physically or spiritually. Whether through prayer, or modern medicine, or a combination of both. I do know that God does miracles. Whether the miracle of relief or the miracle of perseverance.
And we don’t talk about that enough.
“Not all stories of healing are the ones where sight is restored or diseases cease. But we won’t be discipled to witness the miracle of perseverance unless stories of suffering are shared in sermons as stories of profound grace.”
We don’t talk enough about issues like mental health and chronic illness, infertility and miscarriage, grief and heartbreak. We don’t talk about them because they are uncomfortable and hard to address and messy. Because often there aren’t easy answers or fixes. Because sometimes God doesn’t show up how we WANT him to show up.
But what if that is the point?
That sometimes God allows us to walk through incredibly hard things, through dark valleys, so that we can exerpience his grace in the midst of the mess and learn to rely on him instead of on ourselves. So that we can witness the miracle of perseverance in the face of suffering. So that we can testify to a hurting world about a God who not only understands but enters in.
How will the world ever see Emanuel, God WITH us, if they never see us be real about suffering and the God who shows up in the midst of it?
So if you have had a month like mine - the kind where Satan is whispering failure in your ear - remember that struggling, feeling, wrestling, waiting, and suffering do not equate to failure. God wants to meet you exactly where you are, mess and all.
The fact that you are not a living picture of perfection is exactly why you are a living picture of grace. And OH how the world needs grace right now!
“ The moment we get tired in the waiting, God’s Spirit is right alongside helping us along. If we don’t know how or what to pray, it doesn’t matter. He does our praying in and for us, making prayer out of our wordless sighs, our aching groans. He knows us far better than we know ourselves, knows our... condition, and keeps us present before God. That’s why we can be so sure that every detail in our lives of love for God is worked into something good.”