Who Am I?

 

Sometimes mortality is exhausting.  

I got handed a curve ball this weekend.  I've been very open about my health struggles.

I even knew the doctors said eventually it would get worse and it wasn't so much a matter of stopping the train as slowing it down.

I've tried diet changes, medicines, acupuncture, supplements, massage therapy, chiropractic care, blessings, pushing through, cutting back at work, and basically it's still here and progressively getting worse.  I've tried every possible combination to the tune of thousands and thousands of dollars over fifteen years.  Over and over again I hear things should be working but they aren't. Nothing makes it better and nothing makes it worse except complaining and time.  

Last week it started impacting my memory as well.  I got lost going to the doctor. I couldn't answer emails and I had difficulty remembering students names. 

My pain level was through the roof and I had persistent nausea around the clock. 

When I got home I could see the pain and frustration in George's eyes.  The hard part of chronic illness is it makes it hard for a spouse to see their partner or child and not feel the helplessness of being unable to make it better. 

I spent a couple of days on the couch trying not to throw up.  Ginger ale is my best friend.

I am tired of being tired.  It's like the horrors of my difficult pregnancies with no baby at the end. 

 I thought long and hard about how much I hate this part of who I am and doubt and despair crept in. I definitely was feeling sorry for myself but also just rather hopeless. I pled for answers, for reassurance, and only heard silence.

I forced myself to get up and head to work this morning (on my day off) because I was behind.  Way behind.  I put in three productive hours and started to get the edge of a groove.  It was like getting my nose above water. 

Then I picked up my phone and saw this picture that a friend had shared.  And I laughed out loud.  And suddenly I saw a glimpse of light.

I could imagine arriving at the airport and flipping open my passport only to find this.

My kids totally would have done that!

I feel like right now my identity is a bit bungled up.  Like someone has definitely been coloring on my passport.  And taken a push pin to poke my eyes out. 

And then I thought of those I know who are also struggling with their own identity issues.  Gender issues.  Sexuality issues.  Career issues.  Moving and finding your new place issues.  Financial issues.  Loss of loved one issues. Spiritual issues after sin.  Spiritual issues while facing sin.  Marriage issues.  Social issues. All saying "Who am I?"

And my heart was heavy for them all.  

This world does way too much of scribbling on our passports! Sometimes it's because of living in a natural world and sometimes due to agency, others' and our own. 

But under all that scribbling is a pure and simple truth.  I am still me.  I am a Child of God.  I am loved and of infinite worth.  

A calm feeling started to warm my soul and take the edge off the anguish.  Just enough to catch my breath. 

That's enough for now.  I may be traveling for awhile before I find my place, but that truth is still real and unshakable.  The rest will come in time.

Nowhere were we promised if we do good we will have our trials removed.  

Everywhere were we promised we will have trials but He will help carry us through.

And then I looked around at the opportunities to serve that He gives me.  The people I can help and the lessons and talks I can prepare from the couch if I choose to.  

So I prayed again.  

I told Him I still hate everything about it but that I see the good and I know I am His.  And that's enough for today.