The things that need healing...

It's Saturday. My Sabbath. The only day I have completely free. And if I'm being completely honest, I'm in tears.

My to do list runs the length of my arm. My apartment is decimated from neglect- every single room needs care. I need to grocery shop and cook. I need to pick up prescriptions from two different pharmacies because apparently, its a big deal that the pharmacy 20 minutes away from me actually filled my prescription for an Epi-Pen. I need to finish prepping one thing and start something else. And I feel awful. I've felt awful for a week, but I mostly ignore it- everyone has allergies, right? 

For the most part, right...except most people don't have Mast Cell Activation Syndrome and Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome Hypermobility. Most people don't always carry Benadryl and Zantac and pop them like candy some days just to get by. Most people don't lose their mind when they realize their inhaler is empty because they realize that could mean a trip to the Emergency Room if they don't carry it. Most people don't wonder if, when they eat, a food they've eaten regularly is suddenly going to make them stop breathing because their suddenly allergic. Most people don't see their doctors at 2pm on a Saturday. Most people don't roll their ankles just walking down the street, or tweak their back just moving from sitting to standing. Except I do all those things. I guess I'm not most people. 

I'm melting down because, yeah, I'm sick. And you'd never know it most days, especially not if you've been following me on social media the past two weeks, seeing me post thing after thing. You won't even know if you ask me how I am, because I won't bother to tell you I am in pain all the time, or that I only slept two hours the night before because sleep apnea and Ehlers-Danlos seriously mess with my sleep patterns, or that I've spent a third of the week being nauseous constantly, or that I just took my inhaler because my body just had a random allergic reaction to air. Instead I'll answer, "Busy" or "Okay". If it's a really bad week I'll say, "I'm still here," without elaborating. 

I'm in tears because I don't want to be sick, but I am. I hate that it makes me different, and I hate that it makes me feel weak, and I hate how much I fake being well. I hate rolled ankles, neck pain, brain fog, nebulizer treatments, the days when I am anxious and I don't completely understand why, and having to eat differently than everyone else. I hate being sick and capitulating to that reality. But it is my reality. 

And in sitting with that reality, the reality that I am sick,  that I realized something kind of profound. I cannot be healed until I am willing to admit that I am in need of healing. As I mentioned in my last blog post, in the quiet moments I sometimes hear the question, "Do you want to be made well?" I thought this one was simply a yes or no kind of question, and I thought my answer was "Yes". But before I could even answer the question, I needed to be able to admit that I am not well. It's only if I admit that I am sick that I can be made well. And I didn't really reach that place until today. 

So although there were tears today, there is also hope.Today I can say I want to be made well. 

Please Stay on the Path: Thoughts on Healing

A few days ago, in my daily Scripture reading I found myself re-reading the story of the woman with the issue of blood in Luke 8:42-48. I've read the story a number of times, I've heard sermons, read devotions, and at one point in grad school, I even did a narrative piece in my Storytelling class about it. But the thing about Scripture, actually one of the things I love most about Scripture, is that it's always new, and this time, as I read it, I noticed two things:

1. The woman in the story wanted to be healed so much that she pursued Jesus and was willing to take a massive risk just to touch Him.

2. It mattered, she mattered to Jesus. He stops everything to acknowledge her.

In the last 8-9 months this story has come to mind often. I'm healing- physically, emotionally, mentally, and spiritually from a host of ailments it would take me awhile to explain. And there are moments when my mind is wandering, as it often does, and this story comes to mind, often accompanied by the gentle but deeply probing question, "Do you want to be made well?"

The question, which I believe is one the Lord is posing to me in those moments, comes from a different story of healing in Scripture, this one found in John 5:1-5. In the story, Jesus asks an invalid of 38 years, "Do you want to get well?" before He heals him.

An unexpected message on my Sabbath walk at the New York
Botanical Garden

Jesus asks me the same question, gently, but too persistently to ignore. Do I want to be healed? How much of who I believe I am is tied up in my scars or illness or gaping wounds? What does it look like for me to be whole and what changes if I am? Who am I really if I am whole and safe and loved?

Recently, walking on a trail at the New York Botanical Garden, I came across a sign. It said, "Please Stay on the Path. This is a fragile ecosystem. Please help protect it by staying on the path." It made me laugh, and I chuckled as I snapped a picture an instagrammed my thoughts. It made me chuckle because I heard God's voice gently asking me to stick with healing, and He asked in a way that thoroughly demonstrated how well He knows me. My week had been a mess, and I felt raw. But in my messy, broken, still healing state I was seen by God and gently, lovingly pursued. This ecosystem is indeed fragile, and while He tends it, my job is to stay on the path. 

There's no after story in Scripture for the woman with the issue of blood. Unlike House Hunters Renovations there is no follow-up showing her life after the renovation of healing. What happened once she was restored to community? Was it happy home and hearth for her, or did she find herself started on a longer journey of rebuilding everything she had lost in twelve years? I'm left with all kinds of questions. But it doesn't make me doubt that I want His healing. The same healing He offered her, and many others in Scripture. 

Healing for me is this messy but wonderful journey of joy, fear, pain, sadness, hope, unlearning, and re-learning. Yes, I want to be made well. Yes, I want to risk it all to touch the hem of His garment. Yes, I want to breathe deeply and run with ease. Yes, I want to be known and loved. And so I stay on the path.