Healing

"You heal well." At least that's what my dermatologist said as she studied her previous handiwork and scanned for other unfit moles in need of removal.

Her comment struck me as unbelievable.

I look at my skin and see scars. Those that are brighter than others make me self-conscious, knowing that everyone can see such obvious evidence of imperfection.

Take for instance the circular indention on my back where a mole has been removed. Or the pink stripe on my right forearm, revealing a burn from the oven door last summer. Neither hurts anymore or is as red as it once was, but the lingering scars, not the interim healing, is what I focus on.

But after hearing my doctor's comment, I realized there's two ways to look at it: the hurt or the healing. Yet focusing on one to the exclusion of the other doesn't tell the whole story.

The same holds true in our lives.

If we focus only on how great everything is without sharing what we've gone through, it's hard to seem believable or for people to relate to us. But by sharing the painful parts of our stories along with the healing that's taken place, there's common ground because we've all endured some sort of pain.

And more than likely, that pain has changed us. Just look at your changed scars for the proof. Or even better, look at His scarred hands and know that the pain is not for nothing.

I heard a song this weekend by Natalie Grant that sums it up nicely:

"Perfect People"

Never let Him see you when you're breaking
And never let Him see you when you fall
That's how we live
And how we try

Tell the world you've got it all together
And never let them see what's underneath
We cover it up with a crooked smile
But it only lasts for a little while

There's no such thing as perfect people
There's no such thing as a perfect life
So come as you are, broken and scarred
Lift up your heart and be amazed
And be changed by a perfect God, yeah

Suddenly it's like a weight is lifted
When you hear the words that you are loved
He knows where you are and where you've been
And you never have to go there again, no

There's no such thing as perfect people
There's no such thing as a perfect life
So come as you are, broken and scarred
Lift up your heart and be amazed
And be changed by a perfect God

Who lived and died to give new life
To heal our imperfections
So look up and see love
And let grace be enough, oh

There's no such thing as perfect people
There's no such thing as a perfect life
So come as you are, broken and scarred
Lift up your heart and be amazed
And be changed by a perfect God

By a perfect God, yeah
By a perfect God, yeah
By a perfect God
By a perfect God

Be changed by a perfect God
Be changed

One of Those Days

This morning I noticed that my vision was a little blurry as I was driving in to work. Not exactly a good time for my eyesight to fail me. I expected it to clear up. But then things got weird. I saw a sparkly circle on the carpet at work. It was somewhat of a mirage because it existed only in my mind's eye. And then I started having a blind patch and couldn't read all the words on a page.

These are the unique symptoms of a migraine aura without headache.

Thankfully, I've had one of these episodes before and wasn't scared that I was going blind. I knew I just had to wait it out. The small sparkly circle became a sparkly curve that moved from the middle of my eye to the periphery and finally disappeared after about an hour. After the aura vanished, I had only to do battle with my allergies, which have been raging ever since unseasonably warm weather arrived this weekend.

These ailments, though minor in comparison to some health issues, prevented me from being as productive as I had hoped to be today. But they also showed me that I can't do anything in my own power. Health issues force me to turn to God more quickly than just about any other struggle I face. I'm helpless against a migraine aura. I can only be still and wait. Something that I seldom practice of my own accord.

Father God, thank You for restoring my health and my focus on You. Thank You that Your mercies are new every morning. I need them more than I tend to think I do.

Waiting & Trusting/Trusting & Waiting

Today didn't go as planned. I had to go to the doctor to get clarification. Two weeks ago, I had an x-ray done on my back just to make sure that it had healed properly from a car accident a while ago. The x-rays showed that my back was fine, which was good news. But as the doctor read me the report, he mentioned a clip that showed up in my lower left pelvis. He asked if I'd had any medical procedures performed that could account for that clip. I was speechless. The only abdominal surgery I've had was to remove my gall bladder (on the upper right side of my abdomen) four years ago. He said he wasn't concerned about the clip but advised that I should probably have my primary doctor take a look at the x-rays. I couldn't deal with this before vacation, so I decided to wait until I got back to go to the doctor.

So, today I went to see the nurse practitioner. She wanted to order a CT scan. I asked if we could repeat the x-rays first because I was just sure that there must have been a plastic clip in the pocket of the scrubs that they made me wear during the x-ray. She agreed that we could start there and order a CT scan later if necessary. So, I strolled downstairs to the hospital, waited my turn, had the x-rays taken, and returned to work 3.5 hours later.

Right after the x-rays were taken, the tech said that she thought that she saw something that looked like a clip but that she couldn't give me any results. Weird, but that sounded like results to me. Results that I didn't want to hear.

So, during the hour and a half before I got the call from the doctor's office, my mind played out numerous scenarios. Mostly not good. I have a tendency toward that for some reason. And yet I kept hearing, "Do you trust Me?" I kept responding, "Yes, Lord," but my heart wasn't in it.

When the nurse called, she said that I do indeed have some sort of clip and that it must have been used to clamp off something. ???? I couldn't even ask intelligent questions at that time. I felt violated. Why had no one told me that I have this mystery clip floating around my pelvis? How is this normal?

And I heard it again, "Do you trust Me?"

On the drive home, I called a couple of friends of mine who are doctors. They gave me some suggestions on what to ask. One even said that it's probably a clip from the gall bladder surgery that just fell and that it is nothing to worry about. Okay, I'm trying to swallow that.

I realize that in the grand scheme of things this little clip that resides in my lower left pelvis is not a huge deal. And I'm thankful for that. It's just a bit unsettling to have not known about it before now and to have no idea how it really got there.

And yet I continue to hear, "Do you trust Me?"

Unfortunately, my weak-willed answer is "I think so, Lord; I really want to." But my actions show otherwise. And so tonight, I feel a bit like the father who took his son to Jesus and asked Jesus to heal him if he could. Jesus responded, "If I can? Everything is possible for him who believes." And the father replied, "I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief!" (Mark 9:22-24)

I do believe, Lord, that nothing is too big, too little, or too unimportant to take to You. This little clip is merely a speck in Your presence. And yet You care. Help me reflect on Your faithfulness and expand my willingness to trust in only You.