God is really trying to tell me something lately.
"The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away, blessed be the name of the Lord."
Job 1.21
A few weeks ago, one of my dearest friends hurt me deeply by an inappropriate judgment call. She somehow developed a prejudice against me because of my health issues, and after drawing inaccurate conclusions, she made a hasty decision that ended up hurting both of us. I don't know what will happen with our relationship, but we haven't talked since that day. I don't know if we ever will again.
A scene in Grey's Anatomy last night reminded me of my life lately.
Teddy told Henry, the man she signed marriage paperwork with, solely to provide him with health insurance, "Life and death decisions, it wasn't part of our deal."
Henry replied with, "I'm 42 years old. I lost my mom and dad four and five years ago, respectively. My sister lives in Prague. which is a longer story than you want to hear. When I talk to her I tend to err on the side of, 'How are the kids, and everything here is great,' because she's broke and because my health thing is, it's exhausting.
"I used to have a best friend, but he married a woman who made sure I knew that my health was exhasting. And because I kept maxing out my insurance policies, I had to switch jobs about 9 times in the past 5 years, so I've always just been the new guy in the cubicle by the bathroom who takes a lot of sick days. It's not a guy people make friends with."
That scene reminded me of how my health situation has been exhausting - not only for myself, but for everyone around me. It hasn't been for the flighty or faint of heart. And because of my unpredictable health, I've been in college for 6 years now. As soon as I get used to a group of classmates, I have to take a semester off for one reason or another. I've been with maybe 3 or 4 different tracks of students, and it's hard. Very hard. Then I lost my fiancé in January and just had my best friend reject me because of my health. That's painful.
You know, I've been asked why I am so honest, transparent, and often painfully candid on my blog. My answer is this: I do not want to be an open book. I'm actually a private person. But I've been doing this a few years, and while I enjoy writing and connecting, that's not the point of it all. The reason I do this is the idea that, if my story - challenges and overcomings, fears and dreams - can in any way make the road easier for one person, or even just make them feel less alone on the way, then I'm gladly and humbly obliged.
My journey recovering from losing my fiancé last January 30 is probably what I get questioned about the most. It's been messy, and in a perfect world, I would have handled it better. If you remember, I almost lost my life because of it, and I did completely destroy several months of my life all on my own. I'm not proud of how things have transpired, and I definitely wish I could have coped better, but I'm not going to hide one day of this past almost-year. In many comments and emails, I've learned that my journey has not been rare, odd, or abnormal. There's so many other people going through similar losses and handling it in similar ways. We are going through this together, and I appreciate that. I truly believe we learn and grow from each other.
So with that said, my cousin sent me an email this morning that hit my heart hard. She has dealt with a lot of things I cannot imagine dealing with. She lost hope in relationships, almost in life, and is now engaged to one of sweetest men I've ever met. She's in so much joy and bliss, and as close as we are, words cannot express how happy I am for her. It all transpired so quickly and unexpectedly - so wonderfully - when things were really at their worst. I have no doubt that their relationship is a miracle of God, hope He sent to save them.
In her email, she reminded me of this: "It takes the jerks in our lives and the heartache and misery to really appreciate the real love that has, or will, come into our lives."
While in my recent situations, I've found that truth easy to forget, I know it to be true in all cases. Take my transplant for example. I never really took life for granted, but now that I've been through hell just to take the breaths I take today, I'm so much more grateful for and appreciative of the gift of life and the preciousness of each moment I've been given.
My cousin also quoted her aunt who told her years ago, "The best revenge is to be happy." When we are upset and hurt, we give the power to those people or situations who have upset us or broken our hearts.
In the past months, my mom has told me many times that I'm only letting the other side win when I let them upset me. It's my loss, not theirs. Being sad and miserable does nothing to get back at those who hurt us, and it does nothing to advance our situation. Instead, it only wrecks our own lives.
I guess that's one of the reasons I've fought so hard to bounce back from my surgery, why I pushed myself to go back to school this past week, 8 months early. It's why I have new friends and am so into trying new things, forgetting about my fears and practicing diving into life head-first.
Additionally, as my sweet friend Jenn reminded me in an email last week, "Sometimes we can allow situations and even people to keep us from experiencing the fullness that God has planned for our lives... We do need to let go and let God have it - all of it - if we really want to see Him in His fullest."
Gulp.
Yet so true.
This morning, I read a post at (in)courage, one of my favorite blogs. The writers are a large group of Christian women, and they take turns posting inspirational stories.
Today Brooke Keith posted "Learning to Let Go." She told of times when she had to take things away from her tiny baby, Jack. She took things away from him, such as dirty pieces of food, smalls object (choke risk), and a screwdriver that had fallen onto the floor, all out of love and protection.
Each time, Brooke was surprised at his sturdy grip, and she noted the crocodile tears that would fall from his deep, blue eyes. Then she realized "Jack hasn’t fallen far from the tree. I think of things that I too work so hard to reach. Things I feel obligated to. Things I really like, things that make me feel safe, comfortable, and successful. I watch as God pulls them from my hands. I sit in tears and cry 'MINE!'
"He doesn’t understand does He? I need this! I want this! It belongs to me!
"But God gently wrestles with me ... 'Let go.'
"Though we’ve been here before ... I seem to forget with each new circumstance that God knows what He’s doing. That it all always works out. That He closes windows to open doors no man can shut.
"I can’t always see what things are good for me even when they feel good inside my hands and even better inside my life. He knows when I’ve picked up a good Cheerio ... and He also knows when I’ve picked up a Fruit Loop that the chihuahua pulled from the neighbor’s trash bin. He sees the dangers of sharp emotions and situations that could cut me deep.
"I reach for the thing I want...
"But it’s no good.
"God slides across the kitchen, socks sliding quickly against the freshly swept floor. He lifts me swiftly. The no-good thing falling to the wayside. I protest ... But He does it because He loves me.
"My grasp loosens in anticipation for God’s something better lined up in the cupboard.
"God beckons softly 'Let go.'"
My sweet friends, God does have something even "better lined up in the cupboard." May we learn to let go. God can't give us what we need if our hands are full of what we shouldn't have or what we're simply holding onto because we don't know what else to do. Or perhaps we do know what else to do, but we're just afraid. What a hard place to be.
May we obtain true joy in our Lord. May He give us renewed senses of purpose and bless us with happiness anew. While being happy may be the best revenge, may we forsake revenge in the truest sense of the word. May we be humble and grateful to our God for taking away something that was either dangerous to us or in the way of something better. Let us lay down what is clouding our vision, the high mound of people and situations that interferes with our view. Beyond it - can't you see? - is God in his fullest.
Again, those comforting words,
Job 1.21
