I am blessed I did not get sick when I was a teenager or a young adult. I was able to live. I hung out with friends. Lord, if I hung out in groups like that or even that frequently I would not be able to handle it at all now! I was able to work. Since I was 16 years old I always held a job but for a few breaks in-between when I tried my hand at college... I worked my way feverishly up the ladder at most jobs I had. I have worked at a bank, corporate offices, retail stores we know and love, fast food, daycare, nannying, at a hospital, etc. I have been a manager and I have been a leader. I have moved across the country (I was 22 and it was my first time away from home for a longer period then 2 weeks) and had a job in another state. I worked hard no matter what job I had. I loved it. That all changed in November of 2009 with that first kidney infection. Staying in California instead of moving in with my parents as planned last summer is my attempt to still work, to still "play the game," to stay connected to who I used to be. I know that when it is the right time the Lord will tell me and all parties involved will have a peace with the transition. I think about my life the last few years before I got sick and I know I could never do that again. I miss it so much. Taking care of at minimum 2 kids at a time, 6 maximum on any given day. Going to their ballet recitals, class trips, selling Girl Scout cookies, going on Girl Scout trips, trotting them to dentist and doctors appointments, playing games, loving, and just having the privilege of interacting with those amazing children EVERY SINGLE DAY. I miss it so much I could sob right now. No one in my life understood why I chose that job. I got paid peanuts and it was all consuming. I was often times exhausted and worked 40+ hours a week. Aside from the regular schedule of mornings, after school, and some evenings I also started taking 3 of the older kids to church with me back in 2006. By 2008 all 3 loved Jesus and I got the joy of baptizing them one weekend at our home church. It was busy though! They were attending youth group and I started doing leadership there. So I worked all day everyday and then every night there was some event.... my Bible study group, their Bible study group, youth group, corporate prayer... plus we spent lots of time together aside from that going to Borders or movies or wherever. It was a whirlwind. Lots of gas in the tank, broken car after broken car, a small paycheck that barely stretched week to week, and no time for myself. Lots of judgement came to me. My own dad told me I was wasting my life. Old friends caught up in the world of "regular" jobs changed towards me. I was judged immensely. It was the most challenging work I ever did and I am so fiercely grateful and protective over it. Those kids grew me and tested me and made me love in ways I never thought possible. I struggled every day to get through... financially, emotionally sometimes, physically... but it was the best time of my life. How many people can say that they got to teach and love on amazing kids and see how the Lord transformed them into butterflies over the years? I would rather never get paid to be able to say that. I mean that. I got to be a "mom" without ever giving birth. From 2 months old to 12 years they ranged during the time. Now they are so brilliant in character! It's so beautiful to see. So I miss that. I still keep in touch with the younger ones, I still take care of Mylie everyday, I still see the teens every week. But once a week is not enough. I miss working. I miss being. I miss dropping everything to hang out with them.
And yet I know I could not handle it now. I can barely make it through a shower and sitting through church takes everything I have. Once a week is all I can usually bear outside of this apartment. So today I realize that I am still "working." I work for free. I have never charged to take care of Mylie. There has never been and will never be a desire to get paid to take care of her. I have taken care of her since she was 2 months old and my friend had to go back to work. Their daycare plans fell through and I offered to watch Mylie since I watched the other kids already. Soon after I started caring for her I had to move out of my parents house and I moved in with my friend and her husband. It is now almost 5 years later and Mylie has become a surrogate daughter to me. The couple I lived with are divorcing and now I live with Mylie and her father. I have been sick this whole time and I have felt like a failure over and over for not being able to "work." How shocking to realize how much worth we put on WHAT we do. It never occurred to me that taking care of Mylie is considered work. It's as natural to me as breathing. I delight in her, I love her, I would die for her. BUT I am not lazy. My very best friend told me a startling truth the other day. He told me I have been working harder then most this whole time.
Wow....
I am still letting that one sink in.
Have I really? I think back over all these months. I have berated myself for being so stressed, for crying, for having bad days, for closing off, but when I look back images flash in my mind... being hunched over in the movie theatre bathroom puking over and over begging for anyone to help me, every ER visit, every procedure, every trigger point or back injection, every doctor who doubted me, every hope that resulted in no answer, bleeding from places people shouldn't bleed from, not knowing what was happening to me, being judged by people who I have known almost my whole life, being gossiped about, being told I was faking it, moving 3x in 3 months right after my health REALLY got bad, going to NC like I was fine, sitting in those wheelchairs at the airport and feeling so ashamed because I looked healthy, every single stabbing pain and every moment of absolute bleakness, and now the continued ailments that come one after another. I see all of those "me's" flash in my mind and I cannot believe I have been so judgmental and unkind to myself.
I see now that I CAN find the blessings even in this ordeal. I am clothed, fed, and I have a place to lay my head at night. I have an illness but I still work hard. I still fight it. I still survive. My God has blessed me every step of the way. Every wall erected, every disappointment faced, each time I squeezed these eyes shut and sought His face as they poked and prodded me like an experiment... He was there. I knew that of course. Any believer could tell you that. But now I KNOW it. I know it with every fiber of my being. I know it in my bone marrow. I know who I am. That is not anything I have done on my own. Revelation can only come when we ask for it. I am so in awe of how He is so willing to reveal. Wow.
About 2 years ago I prayed to be stripped of my desire for possessions. I asked the Lord to always let me be in want so that I may always rely on Him. I asked for Him to take my love for the materialistic things here and diminish it. I asked that I never became a woman obsessed with make-up or clothes or being trendy. I didn't know why I felt that way. I just started to. The more I sought Jesus, the more I asked to be stripped of western culture and our spoiled lives. Slowly God started to ask me to surrender things. My television show box set collections was first. I was way too into tv and still struggle with it to this day. I collected numerous shows on dvd. It was ridiculous. God asked me to sell them and it was a process with a lot of ups and downs. It was a stronghold in my life and I didn't let it go easily. I would sell a bunch and then I'd go to Target and there would be a sale. I'd buy a few again and then sell them. It was a vicious cycle. Eventually I got rid of ALL of them. It took a long time, and I still have baby inklings at times to buy "just this one" but I don't because I know I don't really want them. Over the years He has also asked me to give up my doll collection which I'd had since I was a young girl. Books. Even to burn the 84 journals I'd had from the ages of 12-27. Every laptop I've had (3) has broken with some kind of wiring or system problem. Every car I have had ends up breaking down.
I have always wondered why those things would happen. I am responsible and take care of my possessions. Now I almost want to laugh at myself. DUH! I ASKED! Not that God is breaking my car or making me poor. No, no, no. I believe wholly that my God wants to bless me, bless us. I believe and know He wants us healed and whole and fruitful. No, no. I believe I have missed the mark and not seen the blessings in what He has allowed all this time. I asked for Him to refine my character, to make me longsuffering, to grow my heart. I asked Him to ingrain the Philippines in my mind. My love for that nation. The orphans who were so delighted by one small stuffed animal or a pack of crayons. I asked Him to make me NEVER want the luxuries when I could be free of possessions.
And look! Now here I am living with just my clothes and no money to speak of. YET I am clothed and fed and I have a place to live. ONLY God can do that. I asked Him to strip me. I asked. I ASKED. He answered. I am so excited it's unbelievable! So my friends, I have been so wrong. Yes, my pain is real. Yes, I will have bad days. I will scream again and cry and feel overwhelmed... but I am starting to see Jesus in this again. My depression and anger are melting as He ministers to my heart.
I am amazed and once again so...
just overwhelmed by the goodness of our Jesus.
