I was learning a lot last week about telling my hard story, courtesy of the hope*writers community. It seems that God was trying to teach me something as I was in the middle of mine. And I was going to do a post this week in the midst of my crisis documenting its miseries, but I felt the prompting of the Lord and my fellow storytellers to wait. While these past few days have finally provided relief from the constant discomfort that my longstanding health issues cause me, I know I’m not fully through this thing (or if I ever will be)–and that’s okay. I can still write about it, but I’ll have you know that I’m nowhere near the finish line.
A bit of background– I was diagnosed with Hashimotos hypothyroidism and polycystic ovarian syndrome (PCOS) in college after a severe depression and out-of-control, painful cystic acne that exploded all over my face. This was only the beginning of a long and winding journey of health problems.
I made it through college relatively unscathed once I got on the right dosage of medication for my thyroid. But then I unwittingly moved into a moldy apartment in the winter of 2018. That introduced a whole new host of problems that I was especially vulnerable to due to my autoimmune condition. I developed chronic sinus pressure and inflammation, as well as leaky gut, later diagnosed as small intestine bacterial overgrowth (SIBO).
I’ll be honest with you–the combination of these issues has been utterly defeating these past couple of years. I’ve never had so much sympathy for chronic pain sufferers because waking up every day with your sinuses swelled up and having to be careful about every single thing you eat to make sure it doesn’t cause immense pain and discomfort is not a fun thing.
I’ve played the victim, I’ve tried to be strong, I’ve given up and I’ve decided to keep pushing forward. I wonder if I’ll ever get better or if these are things I will have to deal with for the rest of my life. The hopelessness that sometimes overcomes me is unbearable. These health conditions have given me some of the worst days of my life, but also some of the best. And I realize it’s all a matter of my perspective.
I wouldn’t have chosen this story. I honestly would have chosen so many other forms of suffering besides this. But this is the story God has chosen for me, and I get to decide whether I trust Him with it or not. Sadly, most days I don’t. Most days I feel defeated and even ashamed for not being able to keep my health under control–as if it’s all my fault. I look at other healthy young people (I’m only 25!) and I envy their youthfulness and vigor for life. My health problems have aged me. Often I feel weak and frail.
But every day I have this choice: to listen to what God is trying to teach me through this. To allow Him to be with me in this, and to trust that He is working it for my good. To truly, truly believe that. And I’ve already seen beautiful things come of this– a passion for health and wellness, a job in naturopathic medicine that I never would have landed if I wasn’t intimately familiar with the industry due to my issues, and amazing new friends who are also going through hard diseases.
I believe God is going to heal me, but I also believe I will be okay if He doesn’t. I am finally learning what it looks like to let Him be enough for me. Yes, I want perfect health and a fully functional body. Yes, I want to feel normal and be able to do and eat things that normal people do and eat. But He is taking me to a new level of faith where my trust in Him is not dependent on my health. Health will come and go, but He always remains the same, and He is always for me. He knows my desire to be well, but He knows what is more important than physical wellness.
So as I continue in this health journey I want to remember that it is not about me. I want it to make me a stronger human who can give better to other humans who are suffering. That is the purpose of our suffering, my friends. It is not meaningless or hopeless, but we have to be able to look beyond ourselves. I recently heard a quote that went along the lines of this: pain is self-consuming. And how true that is. When we are in pain, we understandably cannot notice anything but that pain–it demands our attention. But if we can learn to look beyond our own pain at the pain of others, we will find meaning in our own.
I want my story to bring healing to others, just as others’ stories have brought me healing. God doesn’t allow these seemingly random sufferings into our lives because He is cruel or testing our faith. No friends, He allows us to go through these things so we can be lights for others. We must be broken before we can be molded to His purposes. It is the only way.
Whatever battle you are facing right now, be it mental, physical, relational, or spiritual, know that God is with you in it and He will bring you to the other side of it, even if the other side is not what you envision. My health issues continue, but my ability to handle them and my faith have grown stronger. The point is not to be fully healed or fixed, but rather to become a more whole person.
I know there will be more days of suffering ahead, but I also know I will be able to face them courageously.
Even youths grow tired and weary,
Isaiah 40:30-31
and young men stumble and fall;
but those who hope in the Lord
will renew their strength.
They will soar on wings like eagles;
they will run and not grow weary,
they will walk and not be faint.
rhythms of grace 