Hospital.

If you ever want to complain, you should go to a hospital.

Certainly cured the complain game for me. Momentarily...

I've been dealing with a series of different tests and other medical "stuff" in order to diagnose my what is now called my case of Crohn's Disease, a few food allergies, and other things that are, (you guessed it!) waiting to be identified.

I do not share this in order to receive a bouquet of tulips (it's definitely a tulip-rated-disease...) rather, to share with you the journey of perspective this experience has taken me through.

I've spent a lot of days in pain and a lot of days in discomfort. Somedays I want to share the "struggle", other days I'd rather keep what is hurting me to myself.

The discomfort I do often feel usually leads me to gripe...especially inwardly, if I choose not to share. The days I feel sick can shift my mood and my willingness to participate in almost anything.

However, my visit to the hospital today to do a variety of tests has led me to the following reminders:

1) my Joy is not of this world. 

And... If my joy is supposed to come from my uniting with the Spirit, being one with God- why should I let this pain affect what characteristics move in me? Being renewed every morning must go way beyond praising God through a prayer or acknowledgement. It needs to be a concious commitment to say, "Lord, I'm gonna love you. I'm beg you to let your Spirit work through me. It doesn't matter what happens... how I feel. Let your joy, your peace fill me when I cannot have it on my own.

2) It's not so bad. 


This thought has been ringing in my head ever since I started going through this process with my health, and though I may think it seems cliche, it's the reality. What I am dealing with: it could be worse... In fact, it's not so bad at all. Seeing all of the people in a hospital hurting and waiting, many resilient (which inspires me) and others have hopelessness in their eyes (and its heartbreaking). It reminds me of the 23rd Psalm:

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,I will fear no evil; For You are with me; Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.


Some of the people that I was sitting in the hospital with were experiencing a walk in the shadow of death. How comforting it is to know that God exists in these dark places.

I visited the radiologist today, and if you have ever experienced the scare of cancer or the battle of any other deadly disease or condition, my heart goes out to you. I cannot imagine having to experience the extensive waiting and all of the painful processes- the tests, the treatment, the fear. I'll say it again: My heart goes out to you.

3) My Aunt Amy is my hero. 

My beautiful Aunt Amy with her husband Justin and three boys: Luke, Drew, and Garrison.

Just the other day my family was talking about an extended family affair down in Texas that I could not attend during the 4th of July and about a series of story telling that ended with the reminder of my Aunt Amy, an amazing wife, mother of 3 young boys, and high school basketball coach, and the battle with cancer she experienced just a few short years ago. I was told about how the funny, light hearted stories suddenly turned into reminders of what it means to hold fast to faith and family. I had to miss this moment and I wish I could have been there for this reminder: that life is precious.

 Even though I live far from Amy and seldom am able to connect with her and I never actually sat and fought the fight with her when she was struggling with her breast cancer, I thought about her today when I was sitting in that hospital. How strong she must had to have been for her family. How much faith she must of had in order to pull through such a dark situation.

I feel as if my encounter with the world of health issues only skims the surface of the pain people experience in Hospitals every day. The thousands, millions of these people in the world that are in pain- dying too early because of things out of their control.

I am beyond grateful that I have a Father that exists, even in the dark. I hope that I, who am able to live life without immediate fear of death, can point to my Lord to those in the bleak.