I understand that one of the signs of getting certifiably old is the propensity to talk too freely and frequently about one’s health problems. Well, roll out the welcome mat and pass the Metamucil — I have officially arrived in Oldsville.
In reality, I don’t enjoy discussing or writing about the random, frustrating health challenges that seem to march into my life with alarming regularity these days. But when I started writing this column several years ago — back when I dwelt in the happy land of good gall bladders, functioning ovaries and healthy colons — I determined I would always write honestly about the things God was teaching me right where I was living.
I experience it and you read about it. For better or worse; in sickness and in health.
If you saw me, you probably wouldn’t suspect that my body has turned into the anatomical equivalent of an Al Quaida sleeper cell, constantly plotting to ambush and terrorize me. Folks tell me I look pretty doggone healthy.
And for most of my life, thankfully, I have been healthy, energetic, even athletic. But ten surgeries later, it’s getting hard to keep that banner flying.
Nevertheless, I am learning valuable lessons during my forays into the land of physical woe. Fun lessons? No way. Important? Definitely.
When my body betrays me, it’s sometimes encouraging to revisit the story of Job, the biblical poster boy for suffering. I cling especially tightly to this profound statement by the quintessential sufferer: “But He (God) knows the way that I take; when He has tested me, I will come forth as gold.” (Job 23:10).
I feel like if a trial is too hard or lasts too long, I will come forth like burnt toast, not gold, but Job reminds me that God can redeem everything that happens in my life. God never wastes the pain of those who’ve committed their lives to Him.
My niggling surgeries and physical problems have made me feel, at times, like I’m being pecked to death, but I have discovered a couple of things that help keep frustration from blossoming into despair.
First, I spend some time each morning going over my “thankful list” — a literal written list of things that are good about my life. It’s quite long, actually, and includes everything from basics like food and clean water to bonus blessings like air conditioning.
I think I’m learning what God means in 1 Thessalonians 5:18 when His Word says to “be thankful in all circumstances …” (not FOR all circumstances, mind you, but IN all circumstances – there is a difference).
I’m also keeping a journal of all the ways that God shows His love to me during the course of each day. During hard times, I sometimes forget to look for God’s loving fingerprints all over my life because I’m ticked at Him for allowing me to suffer, or I’m incessantly begging Him to fly in on His heavenly rescue chopper to airlift me out of the mess I’m in.
But when I choose to look and listen for Him in my life, I’m overwhelmed by the ways He whispers His love to me each day.
I want relief; God wants belief. He wants me to cling in the darkness to the truths I learned about Him in the light.
We’re all going to visit the deep, dark mineshafts of suffering. There is gold to be found there. The question is: Will we choose to look for it?