Hallelujah!

Now I realize the truth

That I must go through the valley

To stand upon the mountain of God

~ Third Day, “Mountain of God”

After much discussion and prayer, we decide to head out on our planned trip to Lake Anna with my dear friend’s family (I met my “blonde twin” Nanette at horse camp at age 12).  Although I feel crappy, I drive myself to RMH for extensive organ ultrasounds while Dave and the kiddos pack up.  Such a strange feeling to be going straight from the hospital to vacation!  Since I don’t travel well and am still experiencing some pain, I take Valium and put on my headphones while my gallant knight drives the trusty steed (our faithful 2003 Dodge minivan that boasts 205,594 miles), whilst monitoring whining and bickering in the back seat.  

Even as we pull into the drive, I feel a ray of hope surge through me.  The house is quiet, surrounded by woods and I feel Nanette’s bubbly, joyful spirit transferring to mine.  “Thank you, Jesus, for this very special friend” I whisper in my heart.  The first highlight is meeting Alex, the Latvian orphan they are hosting for the summer.  He doesn’t speak English, but he smiles shyly at me, immediately assessing the 4 kiddos we’ve brought to play with him.  When we arrive at the shorefront, we are amazed by the water temperature (81 degrees thanks to the nuclear power plant, which also maintains high levels of cleanliness).  It calms my anxious heart to see my children splashing and diving for treasure.  Soon, I’m in the water myself and I can’t help but perk up by being in the sun, enjoying the beautiful world God made.  The next two days are filled with fishing, canoe rides, paddle boating, volleyball, games, hammock lounging, campfires, s’mores, sparklers, fireworks, and fireflies.  One morning while foraging for wild blackberries (“Hey, these cost $3.99 a pint at the grocery store!” exclaims Nanette), I get some extensive scratches on my legs from the thorns.  Though I usually hate pain, I look at the blood on my leg with curiosity rather than disdain.  I’m beginning to understand that the small ways I suffer physically connect me with Christ and don’t always need to be avoided.  Perhaps we Christians could learn a thing or two from the Buddhists about how to suffer well.  While still struggling somewhat physically, I feel more alive than I have in months, maybe years.  I think about our theme phrase from the summer I spent at Focus on the Family’s Leadership Institute: “Carpe Diem Coram Deo” ("Seize the day, in the face of God").

I eat my first meal in 12 days.  The catfish that had been flopping on the dock just hours before tastes like a delicacy from a foreign land.  Nanette’s fresh steamed beets & tops from her own garden melt like a treat in my mouth.  The next day, I eat a whole bag of mixed vegetables, by myself!  When I’m starting to enjoy food again, I feel like shouting, “I’M BAAAAAACK!” Can you tell I love food!?

Our last morning at the lake, Nanette and I kayak out alone while the guys watch the kiddos.  We head eastward toward a cove yet unexplored by any of our crew of 11 people.  As we float to the shore, we decide to lean back and relax for a few (our husbands have the children, after all!).  Absent minded, I reach my hand down to gather handfuls of sand.  As it churns up the water, I notice golden sparkles swirling around.  “Nanette, check this out,” I call to her.  Her eyes widen as she wonders if it could be real gold.  We decide to take a few handfuls back to our more discerning husbands.  J.T. has some experience with jewelry and decides to pan it with a small fishing net and clear water.  Real gold flakes, he said, will sink to the bottom of the cup.  We quickly determine that it’s most likely “fool’s gold,” but I don’t feel much like a fool.  My Jesus has been speaking to my heart about “finding gold” on the other side of the storm, so this is a very tangible reminder of this truth from Him.

We return home and the kids rush to check on our Zebra Finches, Proton and Neutron, the science class birds Hannah fosters for the summer.  While they lay 7 eggs the size of a pinky thumbnail, the teacher explained that they most likely would not hatch.  My heart has been breaking for this sweet mama bird who faithfully sits in the nest anyway (getting a break from “Dad” while she eats and bathes), and we just can’t bring ourselves to remove the eggs.  When we walk in the door, I hear shouts of jubilation, and the children begin jumping up and down and hugging one another.  “This is something big,” I think.  There, lying in the fragile nest lay two intricately tiny bodies, so unmoving that we think they are lifeless.  But then we see it: the small pulse of a heart beat coursing through their little bodies.  Again, we are overcome with joy.  After all that waiting and doubt, God still chooses to create something from nothing.  New life!  

I feel the seasons of new birth and abundance -- of spring and summer -- beginning in my own life as well.  It’s what David calls “the Michigan effect:” the winters are so long and dreadful, folks hit the first days of spring and summer with zest unparalleled.  People in other places, like Florida or Hawaii, often don’t appreciate the beautiful, sunny days because they are so common.

We finish celebrating the baby birds just in time to get ready for Hannah’s small birthday sleepover with a few friends.  We rush around picking up zebra print ice cream cake, ordering her favorite pizza, and shopping for her perfect breakfast -- cinnamon rolls, sausage links, fresh mango, and earl grey tea.  God graciously gives me energy and ability to make this a special birthday for her, the longing of every loving mother’s heart.  As I fall asleep to the sound of giggling, I breathe a sigh of contentment.

The next morning, I head to the gym for the first time in two weeks.  Dave tells me to take it easy, but the perfectly timed kickboxing class is just too tempting.  Mentally justifying myself to my husband and physical therapist, I vow to modify and go slow.  That’s when “warrior” Vanessa comes out (read: “I am woman; hear me roar).  I’m actually better than I thought I would be, and I feel physically strong again.  Praise the Lord!

Like me, you may wonder what this change means.  For the moment, it means the storm has passed, and I’m living under a more colorful rainbow.  Some say my body healed itself through a “forced detox;” others say God simply performed a miracle.  I choose to believe it’s a combination of both, and either way, God gets the credit (Soli Deo Gloria).  I’m not naive enough to think that it’s definitely a permanent situation.  Life’s not perfect, and my health struggles are far from over.  But God gives “far more abundantly than all that we ask or think” (Ephesians 3:20).

I’m not sure what my journey will look like from here.  I do not have all my test results, but I’ve been able to resume eating mostly normal (though I’m resolved to cut down on junk food, and even forcing myself to consume a spoonful of disgusting “super food” herbal supplement every morning).  One GI specialist suggests that part of the problem may be that I’ve never had an endoscopy at the onset of severe pain.  Combined with the fact that I’ve had dozens of different care providers and other issues occurring simultaneously, my case is not an easy one to diagnose. 

But God has given me a grand vision of a puzzle of healing.  There is no “magic formula” to bring me to total wellness, but rather a combination of things that will allow me to function.  I’m hopeful God will give me the ability love my husband and children well, and even reach out to minister to others in the midst of my own pain.  For me, pieces of this healing puzzle are quiet time when God can refresh my soul; music that speaks deeply to my heart (sometimes that's rap and hip hop!); close fellowship with mature believers that encourages my spirit; time and space for emotional and physical intimacy with my husband (hey, I *AM* married!); regular stretching and exercise; hot baths and cold compresses; therapeutic massage; reading and writing; enlisting my hubby's help in setting limits and boundaries (I still remember Dad making me read that book Margin in high school!); holding babies; and surrounding myself with the essence of loveliness -- nature, candles, flowers, paintings, etc.  Combined, these puzzle pieces remind me of Plato’s notion of “truth, beauty, and goodness.” 

I’ll close this part of my journey with words directly from Scripture.  Not only is it the life verse we’ve claimed for our precious Clara JOY, it is the same doxology our pastor “randomly” chose to close our worship time together this past week:  “To Him who is able to keep you from stumbling and to present you before His glorious presence without fault and with great JOY — to the only God our Savior be glory, majesty, power and authority, through Jesus Christ our Lord, before all ages, now and forevermore!” (Jude 24-25).

*I’d like to dedicate this post to the Carradice family for their generosity and life-giving investment in relationship with our family, despite our many flaws.