Highs and Lows

Many of my friends and leaders are at Rockbridge Alum Springs this week for a wonderful week of Young Life camp. Here, the Gospel is shared to high schoolers in a real and accessible way. This is the first trip since I started doing Young Life that I haven't been able to go on but I am so excited to hear the ways God has been working there this week!

One thing that each cabin normally does is have each camper share their highs and lows, pows and wows, pits and peaks, etc., of the day. It is one of my favorite things to do so I figured I will share some highs and lows of my life in the past few weeks.

Low: Finding out about the mass in my pancreas. I have never been more anxious.

High: Finding out about the mass in my pancreas. I have never run to God with such urgency and desperation. I have never been met by any person with such love and faithfulness.

Low: Being imprisoned in a hospital room. I am a go, go, go, sleep when you're dead kind of person. I am going absolutely nuts sitting in this stupid room. I have not seen the light of day for a full week now and I am dying to get out. 

High: Being imprisoned in a hospital room. I have spent a lot more time with my family before college, which is a blessing I probably would not have experienced with the busy summer I had planned. I am able to slow down and listen to the heart of Jesus. I am given time to think and meditate and pray on the Word. This, too, is a blessing for which I can be nothing but thankful.

Low: Only having 10 days of full-fledged summer before the pain of surgery and inhibitions of recovery. I will not be able to do half of what I normally would with the injury to my abdomen and requirements of tube feeding and stomach draining.

High: Only having 10 days of full-fledged summer before the pain of surgery and inhibitions of recovery. I have never made more of 10 days in my life! Every concert I went to, every conversation I had, everything was amplified in the most beautiful way. It showed me a better view of what life can be when we recklessly abandon everything to follow Jesus.

Low: The doctors and nurses- I've dealt with a vast amount of people over the past week in an intimate enough way that I can pursue real conversation as they constantly change my drainage tubes and give me shots. On days that I am stubborn or apathetic and don't focus my heart on Christ, I fail miserably at loving these people. It is kind of a slap in the face.

High: The doctors and nurses- Though I cannot possibly love every single doctor and nurse I come into contact with(human nature, people), I am reminded, again, of the transforming power of the Holy Spirit. And our very real dependence on it in becoming more like the people the God created us to be. One specific example involves a med student that has trained on me for two night shifts(basically keeping me alive). I already have a hard time dealing with the training aspect of this hospital; sometimes I just want the best care the fastest. Additionally, this girl did not rub me the right way. The very real and bratty side of me came out the first night she was assigned to me. I wouldn't say my standoffish actions towards her were extremely horrible or unwarranted by worldly standards, but they definitely did not glorify the good Lord above. When she blew out THREE veins at FOUR IN THE MORNING, I was, needless to say, pissed. The second night she was assigned to me, I was, again, unenthused. I remember looking up and saying, "Very funny." But thinking hard on Jesus and praying for my heart every time I pressed the call button resulted in a 1:04am conversation about Jesus with her. It was so cool!!! We talked about a life with faith and dealing with hardships while walking with the Lord and it was such a beautiful moment of realizing what God can do with our hearts if we are willing. When she left, I looked up and smiled.

Those are just a few of the highs and lows I have experienced over the past week. I'm sure the learning is not done and I am so excited for that. Things are definitely hard. This is the hardest thing I have EVER dealt with in my very short life, for so many reasons. The pain, the lack of sleep (yeah, hospitals=no sleep), the boredom, the fear, the anger, the doubt. There are a lot of things going on in my heart right now: far too many to write about. But I growing and transforming in the Spirit each day I am here. Things are moving and shaking all around me, but one thing's for sure: a life with Jesus looks a lot better, folks, there is no doubt about that.

What I am listening to:

"Keepsake" -State Radio

"Seven Chinese Brothers" -R.E.M. 

"1940(Amplive remix)" -The Submarines

"Working Poor" -Horse Feathers

"And we know that in all things, God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to His purpose." Romans 8:28

Joy!

I was extremely naive going into this surgery. About how much it would hurt and how long it would take to heal. And yesterday learned that I am "opioid naive," as well. Basically, I had a really bad trip off all the drugs they've been putting into my system. I was panting with fear and on the verge of tears as I asked my doctors if I was going to live. They all looked at me like I was off my rocker; I essentially was. It was a bit embarrassing, in retrospect, but a nice walk around the ward calmed me down. As I was settling back down, my good friend came to visit me. Before leaving, he prayed over me with a subtle urgency. His demeanor made me aware of what I was learning.

Jesus is it. He is everything. He is the center of every variable tangent our courses hold. He is seldom never all we have but He is always all we ever need. I've had a lot of time to think in between all the needles and med students and I've been shown some big things. I've felt some big things is a more appropriate way of saying it. Going to church all my life, I've understood in my head that Jesus is the source of any joy I have but I've never truly known that with my heart. I definitely thought I did. I wouldn't say that I ever found joy in shallow things like money or material possessions, but I wouldn't say that I've ever solely found it in Jesus either. Every night, I thanked God that I could run and play and jump and move and just do. Do things with my friends, do things by myself, depression finds me at home with nowhere to go. I revolve my life around being out all day and night, occupying my mind. This is the faulty plaster I have been using to fill the hole in my heart that only the eternal joy of Christ can.

I do not think this sickness is in any way a punishment or reprimanding on God's part. Only the gift of feeling joy without secular happiness. I have been set free from the tenuous contentment of this world. And surely again will I be able to run and play and jump and move, but I am now being granted the experience of what joy is. The joy of incorruptible love. The joy of conquering death. The joy of our blessed Savior.

What I am listening to:
"Old Man" -Neil Young
"A Message To You Rudy" -The Specials

"Indeed, You are our glory and joy." 1 Thessalonians 2:20

Weak

Disclaimer: this was written under heavy anesthesia and pain medication

I arrived at the hospital bright and early on Tuesday. The nurses made me change into what are probably the most awfully designed scrubs I've ever seen (it's a good thing I've never been fashionable anyways). I waited and waited and got some blood drawn for labs. They took my vital signs then took me to a large room with many partitioned areas that reminded me of Grey's Anatomy or House. This is where I forgot. Where I forgot that all would be okay. That Jesus had my back. I had never liked those shows growing up; they scared me. Entering this area, I was gripped by the worst fear I have ever experienced. This was real. It was not some dream or a joke. I was about to go through something I could never handle on my own. This fear overwhelmed me and I kept forgetting that it didn't have to. 

I was placed on a bed and introduced to my anesthgiologists. They were all nice, but their deliberate intensity only reminded of how serious this all was. A lot of important people were there to watch because of the rarity of the procedure and I felt like an non consenting test subject. As they began giving me multiple IVs and telling me about my epidural, I teared up. This was the first time my unabridged emotions surfaced for all to see. I was a scared little girl sitting on a table in the middle of the pre-op area. I had forgotten whose daughter I really was and what that meant in combatting fear and other complements of Satan. I had forgotten to look above for my strength and I was really, really scared.

I don't remember much else besides the chilling air of the operating room and one of the anesthesiologists placing a mask over my nose. I had planned to sing Amazing Grace but I didn't even get through one verse before I succumbed to a medically induced slumber for eight hours. When I awoke, it was like all hell broke loose. 

I had previously worried about freaking out and pulling out all my tubes and wires when I woke up, but I quietly regained consciousness into a medicinal regatta of morphine and boluses. I remember tugging at one of the male nurses and telling him that I was in a lot of pain but I immediately knew that I was no longer sick. I knew that I had just undergone a extensive procedure that would require a long recovery, but i knew it was gone and I felt whole. 

They moved me to a room in the ICU where I met my wonderful first, night nurse who reminded me of Theresa Caputo from Long Island Medium(my guilty pleasure). My family was there and I was not in much pain so I thought my horizons looked pretty bright. Little did i know, the first night after surgery would be the absolute worst night of my life. I have never felt more pain and I have never felt more fear. My epidural was not working correctly, so i pretty much felt it all. And it all was much too much for me to handle. Thankfully, my sweet nurse held my hand the entire night and would not let any of the doctors touch me because the smallest nudge caused my entire abdomen to tense up. She coached me through breathing because I started averaging 5 breaths a minute and she coached me through enduring because I was scared.

The next morning, the "pain team" had managed to take care of a lot of the burning in my stomach. I was still far from comfortable, but I could handle myself better than the night before. The first day after surgery was really a blur. I refused to let anyone touch my stomach because it hurt so bad and I am thankful all the doctors forgave me for being a diva about it. 

That night my worst fear came true-not really my worst fear but I absolutely can't stand it-the nurse had to prick my finger to test my blood sugar. I know that's a extremely melodramatic, but it hurts, people! Luckily, the pain I was enduring in the rest of my body totally blocked out the little finger prick. I slept for a few hours before the doctors made their rounds at 4am. They had to take labs but my veins were basically nonexistent due to dehydration. I usually do fine with shots and getting blood drawn the seven times the doctor had to stick me almost made me cry. The rest of the second day was more of the same until I walked for the first time! I took a lap around the entire ICU (which is pretty exciting stuff for me these days.) I also had a lot of visitors. Sweet friends that brought me flowers and decorations for my room. All blessed reminders of how blessed I am. The day ended on a a wonderful note when I got clearance(questionably) to be wheeled outside for fireworks. Due to the location of my hospital, I had a million dollar view! I thought about how different it was from the fourth of july last year-and every other year for that matter- but how amazing it was in it's own way.

Today has been full of more progress! I woke up and the doctor ordered that one of my drainage tubes be clamped (I don't really know what that means but it is good). I still cannot be given tube feedings because my bowels haven't started working yet, but we are getting there! I walked six laps around the ICU without a sweat and the nurse removed my catheter. I was able to get up and go to the bathroom unassisted which seems minor but is a big deal! Moving around on my own is getting much easier and I am thankful for 11 years of travel soccer for teaching me how to push my body.

My mental health and spiritual stability took a dive for a few days. Not because I chose for them to, but because I was still obstinately trying to fight through some of the scariest and most painful moments on my own. I had forgotten Jesus in all this. I had forgotten that it was okay to breakdown and cry. A friend of mine reminded had me of this a few days before the procedure but I did not heed her advice. I had it in my mind that I had to put up a strong and confident exterior that was sometimes contradictory to what was going on in my heart. But here's the kicker; in Christ I can be weak. We are not made to withstand the transgressions of this Fallen world. I was scared out of my mind because of the nightmarish things the surgeons had to do to my body. I was frustrated that I could not glorify God in everything I did because the very human and sinful part of me was getting frustrated with situations and people over which I had no control. The beauty of the Light that I possess by faith is that it is stored a clay jar that emits ever more light when it is broken. So in relying on Jesus in every place I fall short I do not have to lose heart. Even when I feel I have outwardly wasted away, I am being renewed day by day.

What I am listening to:

"Blood" -The Middle East

"The Story I Heard" -Blind Pilot

"Victory" -Trampled By Turtles

"Hit Me With Your Best Shot" -Pat Benatar (I used to listen to this to get pumped up for soccer games)

"But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us." 1 Corinthians 4:7

"Therefore, we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day." 1 Corinthians 4:16

The Greatest

Well, the big day is tomorrow. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t afraid. But that fear is transformed into awe at the power of Christ’s love. Tonight, I sat in campaigners as a few of my sweet brothers and sisters prayed for my surgery. I cried. A lot. Because it was a realization of what a life with Jesus is all about. The fellowship, community, and love that we are all invited into. To walk through life and conquer death with. In the same room I sat in years ago after first learning about who Our Savior is, after first understanding what love could really be, I sat, tonight. Still completely taken by what was taken up so many years ago by Jesus. Still captivated and compelled by what I experienced when faith first entered my heart. This is so real and I could not be more wholehearted in saying that. 

At campaigners, we sang “Jesus, I My Cross Have Taken” and I could not wipe the gigantic smile off my face as I read the lyrics off the wall. This sickness is hard and scary and real “yet how rich is my condition” that Jesus is stronger and braver and more real than anything I’ve ever known. I am beginning to understand how thankful I am, how fortunate I am. Not to have gotten sick, but that “God and heaven are still my own.” I have been given such a unique vantage point from which to witness His soveriegn power and His gracious love. It is all around me. The support and prayers I have received in the past two weeks have completely blown me away. A new lens that has shown me truer Beauty in every single thing about life. It has all been such a real and tangible manifestation of Who Jesus is. Sitting here on my bed, enjoying my last pizza lunchable, my last real food for a few weeks, I could not be more thankful for what He has given me in this sickness. The Cross is truly the greatest love story ever told. I could not be more thankful to experience true Love.

What I am listening to:

"Wagon Wheel" -O.C.M.S. and/or Mumford and Sons (this is my favorite song, ever)

"The Weight" -The Band

"Casimir Pulaski Day" -Sufjan Stephens

"Jesus, I my cross have taken,
All to leave and follow Thee;
Destitute, despised, forsaken,
Thou from hence my All shalt be.
Perish every fond ambition,
All I've sought or hoped or known;
Yet how rich is my condition!
God and heaven are still my own."

from "Jesus, I My Cross Have Taken"