Jesus hold the children

So let's start from the very, very beginning......

Jesus, hold the children of the world close to you
Hold their heads high, and hold their hands tight
Let them see the joy upon your face,
Your love for them that won’t ever erase
Lead them to your grace

And may you be their strength to make it through this world
And may your love sustain and carry them for all of their days
Jesus, hold the children close to you

Jesus, hold the children of the world close to you
Protect and heal, provide and stand beside
Give them laughter for their pain,
Give them holiness for the stain this world has tried
So hard to leave upon them

Be their shepherd, be their guide
Through all their days and nights
Jesus, hold the children close to you
I pray Jesus, hold the children close to you.

{Hannah Ford, Jesus Hold the Children}

When I was five, that's when all the drama began. I became sick with something.... no one knew what. That sure was a party. Hospital after hospital, doctors from all specialties, tests I still to this day wake up with flashbacks over..... It was miserable. Within a few years, things finally got settled down, I got an officially fancy diagnosis (which, in English, is broken down to mean liver disease)

Thankfully, for the onset of my battles, I was too young to know any different. I honestly thought all kids had to stay in the hospital, go through tests and surgeries... I just thought that was how things went. I was a smart, cautious child though, so that may have been a good thing.

I sang "Jesus Loves the Little Children" with all my heart just like any other little girl in Sunday School. I proudly learned my Bible verses and wore my fanciest patent leather shoes on Sunday mornings. Looking back, through the hardest times, my mom still found the strength to sit beside me each and every night as we closed our eyes together and said our prayers. Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep... Whatever was going through my parents' minds as they dealt with the idea of their five year old princess having an unknown diagnosis, they sure did hide it from me well. I could go on and on about the psychology of coping and adjustment here, but in short, the whole dynamic of our family changed. What happened, happened. Nothing was right or wrong, it just was. I don't know how things would have been, but thankfully, we all seemed to get by okay.

A few years passed, and I wasn't five anymore. I was nearing those double digits and starting to question who I was and what I believed. Always being the black and white, yes or no, right or wrong kind of child, the enemy was just waiting for that point where he could step in and ask me why a loving God, our Heavenly Father, would put something like that upon a child He supposedly loved? All hell broke lose. Thankfully, God has somehow dulled a lot of those memories, but I do remember how I completely gave over to hatred. I would literally scream at God, and I would cry and cry as I prayed to die. I never tried suicide, but I thought about it many times. I blamed myself, I blamed God, I blamed my parents... I blamed just about anyone and everything, trying to find some kind of answer that would make sense long enough to give me just a few moments of rest. I withdrew. Psychologically, I went into some odd form of relapse denial. It became a game for me to avoid taking my meds, cancel doctors appointments without my mom noticing, etc. All the while, I was a mess inside. I refused to tell a single soul what I was going through. The "game" included keeping all of my pain, hospital stays, and concerns from my friends. To them, I was perfect. I had it all together.

And so it went. I grew up. Miserable.

I'm not sure when I finally broke out of the whole angry-blaming thing. I don't know how it happened really. My whole life of this has been a crazy seesaw of back and forths and up and downs. I think it just took me maturing in the Lord enough to pursue my questions instead of ending at conclusions. Of course a loving God wouldn't bring this upon His child. Don't question it - look around it and see that it was indeed the doing of Satan. It's impossible to have all of the answers, but it is possible to find peace and contentment in Christ to be okay with that. Will I live to be 30? I don't know. Will I ever get better? Science says no. Will I ever be truly, completely, 100% okay with this whole coping thing? Who knows. BUT I do know this. Chronic illness or not, no one has any of those answers. I just think about them a little more than the rest of you. I haven't figured it all out yet, and I really doubt I ever will, but I can honestly assure you that you'll be a lot happier trying to be content than trying to be miserable. It does take a conscious effort, and it is most definitely easier to go with the angry, blaming, moping, complaining route. Some days, I can't even get out of bed, much less paste a smile on my face. Sometimes the pain is so bad but with my schooling and profession, there are just some things I cannot back out of, no matter how bad I feel. Would I like to just fall off the face of the earth for awhile? Yes. Definitely. What about when I have to deal with those well-meaning friends and relatives who go off on tangents about how hard they have it and Wow Amanda, you must have it great, just going to school and all. I usually have to use all the strength within me to keep from going off and telling them how I've almost been forced to medically withdrawl a few different times. When you're in a situation like that, nursing school becomes much more than a huge challenge. It's more like a gift and a passion that you hold on to as tight as you can.

So there we go. That's the beginning of the story plus a little rambling to go with it. :) I've come a long way, but it hasn't been easy. And wow do I still struggle some days. It's just more "grown up" struggles now. But I also believe childhood illness scars people in ways only their victims can completely, totally understand.

On a last note, I'd like to begin the week with some encouragement as well, because this isn't a pity party week. This is a venting, storytelling, coping, helping, strengthening, sharing, it's-gonna-be-okay week.

Psalm 23... I know you've heard this before, but hear it again. Have you ever really, really, really taken the time to savor each word? Or do you just glance at it and think, Oh, I've read this before?

When my uncle was sick in the hospital last fall/winter waiting on a new liver, I would recite this blessed chapter when he would just grimace in pain. Both of our eyes would fill with tears as he would use all of his strength to mouth each and every word along with me. There is so much peace in these words.

Two weeks ago, I was in the hospital just for a standard contrast-medium MRI. I'm used to them, but just the thought of being in a giant microwave for an hour isn't necessarily comforting to me. Then after 20 minutes of arguing, the tech finally won, and he made me take my engagement ring off and put it in a denture cup for "safekeeping." Right. There is no reason that would ruin an abdominal MRI, and he could barely understand what I was trying to say, and honestly I think he was confused. But I digress. The point is, that ring is life to me. I was an emotional mess that day to begin with, and I needed my ring. That ring is the biggest symbol of everything good that I've ever had in my life. Not only does it symbolize the phenomenal love Jonathan and I share, but it symbolizes the faith in God we share, the strength he gives me, and the comfort I get from his love. I needed it. I won't even begin to tell you how the tech wouldn't let me have the pillow a certain way and I was in really bad pain from my car wreck back injuries. Anyhow... with nothing but an IV catheter in my arm and an ugly hospital gown that had been worn by half the world before me, the microwaving began. "Are you comfortable?" the voice in the box asked. What was I supposed to say? Yes? Are you kidding me? I'm strapped down so I can't even move my hand, and you want to know if I'm comfortable?? I muttered a "Sure" but my mind was thinking otherwise. This is ridiculous. I'm not even being treated like a human being, and yet I'm a nurse who strives to be the opposite of this guy here. I don't have my life on my left ring finger, and my neck and back hurt so bad that the pain is radiating all over my body. And what in the world am I doing here anyways? I'm TWENTY for goodness sakes. Who said I'm supposed to have fatal liver disease? Who said anyone is? Life is so ridiculous sometimes. Tears started pouring out of my eyes, and I knew it was coming. And that's how it starts, so I knew if I was going to get a grasp on my mind I better move quick. Suddenly it came to me. I took deep, thoughtful breaths and did what I am learning to do whenever my soul is distressed. I clearly whispered these precious words under breath over and over and over again...

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.
He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters.
He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake.
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.
Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.

It seems like such a little thing, but try it. You'll be amazed at the peace behind the power of His Word.