Strength

So I don't blog for two months and Google completely updates Blogger's user interface. It took me a minute to find the plus sign to make a new post (it used to be in the top left and now it's on the bottom right). Blogger definitely looks more modern, although it will take me a bit to get used to. 

Things have been so crazy, but that’s not an excuse for not writing. I will be honest that a lot is happening in the world, but I have also been learning, processing, and reflecting on a lot of different things. I may or may not share them in the future.

 

I wanted to blog today because I reacted to a situation in a way that I was not proud of. Well, I do lots of things every day that aren’t great, but this is something that I’ve been struggling with since forever. It reminds me of the blogpost I wrote when I was in Uganda about what boda boda drivers have taught me.

Before we dive in, please enjoy a picture of the beach! I went last week, and there was a surprise: 

Reminder of God's Promise

 

This summer, I am living in Kelly’s house. Kelly is a great person, and I’ve really enjoyed living with her. She is kind, generous, driven, and passionate. We both love to cook, eat good food, and come from backgrounds that value education, health, and excellence. It’s been very refreshing connecting with her and having my values affirmed (yes, drinking water and pursuing excellence are not crazy things). Her ambition and vision for ministry, as well as concerns, are beliefs I resonate with.

 

When Kelly started ministry, she worked long hours, launching movements on high school campuses, leading small groups, and thriving in the busy-ness of ministry. She said that people who saw her in her work environment described her as intimidating. I would describe her as independent, capable, decisive, and a natural leader. In addition, Kelly is very outgoing and social, warm and bubbly. You get the gist. Kelly is strong, in many aspects of life. I want to be like her when I grow up.

 

But she isn’t like this anymore. A few years ago, her health went downhill. Based on the little I know, her antibodies started attacking her muscles. If she uses her muscles too much, her immune system over-reacts and starts messing with her body. She can only walk half a mile at a time, 1.5 miles total in a day. Her immune system is extremely compromised, and a common cold keeps her in bed for a couple days. Some days, she’ll wake up and experience migraine headaches or tunnel vision. Since moving in with her, she has fainted on the way to the bathroom. Because she has so many different complications, she summarizes it all as just “autoimmune diseases.”

 

I don’t know Kelly very well, but it’s very clear that her autoimmune diseases dramatically altered her entire life. She shared that she can no longer do many of the things she once loved. She isn't physically able to do as much ministry as she once did. People she thought were her closest friends drifted away once she got really sick. It makes a lot of sense: if people can no longer do the activities they once did together, it’s extremely difficult to maintain a relationship.

 

All this to say, Kelly is not all that she seems, when she stays in bed all day. When she asks me to help her carry her laundry upstairs. When she can’t chop broccoli because the stems are so hard. When she asks her best friend Genny to stay the night because she's in a lot of pain.

 

Anyway. On Friday, I took Kelly to get her blood drawn. She recently found a new doctor who looked at all her conditions holistically. He ordered lots of blood tests, and she needed to draw 26 vials of blood. That’s a lot of blood, and Kelly is not a big person. She fainted during the process and looked very pale and exhausted when the nurse called me in. We sat in the room for awhile as we waited for her to regain a little strength so she could walk back to the car. We picked up breakfast on the way home, and she slept most of the day and the rest of the night.

 

The next day, Kelly, Genny, and Tony John went to the beach to say goodbye to another friend moving back north. They were supposed to leave at 11:30am but didn’t get into the car until 1:30pm. Watching them (mainly Kelly) get ready made me so stressed. On one hand, I was happy that she was well enough to spend the afternoon at the beach. On the other hand, everything she did was taking SO LONG, and I couldn’t help but want to just do everything for her so they can leave and their friends at the beach wouldn’t have to wait so long. Even though I wasn’t one of the people going, my impatience made me feel frustrated that they weren’t more on time. I thought people only left 2 hours late in developing countries.

 

When they finally left, I breathed a sigh of relief. It was then I realized how fast my heart was beating and how much adrenaline was in my body. I had felt this way waiting for people in Uganda. But I was in the US, and they were Americans. Why was I so worked up when it didn’t even involve me? Was my frustration even valid? What was wrong with me?  

 

Granted, Kelly may not have been a stickler on time like me before she got sick. But it kind of hit me how someone so strong could be simultaneously so helpless. She was so weak that she couldn’t blow-dry her own hair. She had to rest on the couch on her way from her bedroom to the garage (it’s only 30 steps, max).

 

It made me reflect on all the things I take for granted.

• My capacity. The ability to get things done in a timely manner, however that is defined.
• My health. Being physically well enough to walk, run, carry heavy things, do everyday chores, and take care of myself. 
• My time. This has been an ongoing battle of surrender. Is my time really mine?

 

I know being sick is extremely challenging for Kelly. Well, I don’t know, because I don’t have the same experience as her. But it’s clear that God is teaching her and sanctifying her through this process. In a Gospel in Life podcast, Tim Keller said that suffering is like fire. If we are ore, suffering separates the dross (impurities in metal) from the pure metal. Under normal conditions, everything is mixed together. But the fire burns away all the things that we trust that is not God. It seems to me that Kelly is in the fire, and she is being refined. While she may no longer be what the world defines as great, I can see the Lord working in her life already. She is honest and vulnerable about her health; humble enough to ask people for help; and compassionate towards those with disabilities. These are beautiful qualities, and indicative of a different kind of strength. I'm not saying that Kelly didn't have these qualities in her before, but her situation has enlarged her heart. 

 

I do not dare to ask God to put me in a fire like that. No, I love my health and my independence way too much to voluntarily give them up. I want to appear strong to the rest of the world. But maybe that’s the problem. In light of eternity, anything I trust in other than the Lord will disintegrate. So here I am, nervously holding my hands open, palm up. 

Father God, I don't want to be so possessive over my time and what I think is strength. Help me to be a good steward of the things You have so graciously given me.