2 Corinthians 12 5Of such an one will I glory: yet of myself I will not glory, but in mine infirmities.
6For though I would desire to glory, I shall not be a fool; for I will say the truth: but now I forbear, lest any man should think of me above that which he seeth me to be, or that he heareth of me.
7And lest I should be exalted above measure through the abundance of the revelations, there was given to me a thorn in the flesh, the messenger of Satan to buffet me, lest I should be exalted above measure.
8For this thing I besought the Lord thrice, that it might depart from me.
9And he said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness. Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me.
10Therefore I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in necessities, in persecutions, in distresses for Christ’s sake: for when I am weak, then am I strong.
While recovering from the effects of chemo, I leaned heavily upon God’s grace to help me. March or April of 2000 I had commanded “T” to leave my house due to an act of racism that appalled me. I came home one Friday evening the 4 hour trip from Vanderbilt to Missouri. My oldest son had brought home one of his good friends from college who was black. That same evening T came to my house instead of his cabin. As I entered my front door, I barely said hello to my son and guest when I was shoved into the bedroom to be informed that I was to throw my guest “that N” out of “our” house. To my great fortune, I had not added T to the title of my house and had him sign a document that released any rights to him. Before we married, he emphatically declared that he was not racist because for me in a racist area of the country it was important to me that no one be near my half Mexican children who would be racist. Well upon his command to send my son’s guest away, I quickly reminded him that last time I checked the house was in my name and that my son’s friend was welcome; however, a racist would never be welcome in my home. I commanded him to leave immediately. I know I am commanded to be obedient to my husband; but that obedience stops when his command went against God himself. So began the separation from T but I did not yet divorce him because I wanted to get it right before God and to my knowledge their had not been any infidelity to make a divorce acceptable before God. He still came to visit occasionally after that but only if Alberto wasn’t home from college. Emotionally I was drained and filled with sorrow; but each day I got up and moved forward to complete my clinical rotations. At the same time, I had to work full time. Working hard was something that I was accustomed to and at work or with the children I could separate myself from the depths of sorrow; but alone in the darkness I prayed that God show me His plan and give me the strength to follow no matter where that might be. I waited for His answer. After all, I ran ahead of God when I married T, but the amazing thing is his son accepted Christ as his Savior and later told me that God sent me into their lives to bring him to Christ—what an incredible God to have even used my failures to bring Himself Glory.
That was when I began with the abdominal pain and blood in my stools. Of course my first thought was cancer. So I had to go for a colonoscopy. This was to be done by the same Doctor I was doing my final rotation for school. Since he was a very nice looking, smart, gentle, Christian man I must confess there were moments that I felt a twinge of jealousy toward his wife. The thought of my being given versed (awake and not awake) I prayed that God not let me say something that I would later regret. I know He did because I am told that every time over the next few years that I was given Versed for surgery or procedure—I began quoting scripture and preaching. The colonoscopy confirmed that I had ulcerative colitis. This is an autoimmune disease in the which my own body was attacking my colon. It does have cyclical episodes that are worse. Mine occurred at 4 am every morning. I would awaken with severe abdominal pain and would spend the next 4 hours going to the bathroom at least 20 times to pass clots of blood. The pain was so severe, I would break into a sweat and felt that the only thing to ease the pain would be to expel my entire colon. The only description I could say was it felt like someone at taken a meat hook and hung me swinging with jerking motions from my rectum.
That began a year of very high dose steroids by mouth, cortisone enemas, suppositories, and pills called Asacol. I initially removed from my diet all wheat gluten, fiber, milk products in an attempt to slow down the symptoms (that did not leave much) I kept my protein levels up by mixing creamy peanut butter and honey which I ate 1 spoonful every hour. Nothing I did slowed the severity of the symptoms by much. Between the bathroom trips I would sit in a recliner and read my Bible prayerfully. My recliner sat in a large walk-in closet off my bedroom so this truly became my prayer closet. The only solace for my severe pain was the ever-present love of my heavenly Father who seemed to be right there with His arms around my shivering shoulders. Again, I refused to take pain pills since I knew their long term effects of dependency.
The high doses of steroids reeked havoc with my body. I could not sleep more than one or two hours a day. So in a very regimented fashion, I took a sleeping pill once every three days. I did not want to become dependent on them either. My hair began to thin once more and my face became so rounded that my eyes and mouth recessed deeply hidden, looking very much like the moon when it is full. I developed a large fat pad at the base of my neck which grew so large as to obscure my neck. Then came the full beard and mustache which I refused to shave and at best kept trimmed short with scissors. My leg muscles became so weak that I had to literally pull myself up a staircase by the force of my arms clinging to the rails and very slowly. All of this to no avail as the ulcerative colitis would not slow down and raged within my body to destroy. Much like sin and all the efforts we make on our own to destroy it and to no avail without a Savior, the Great Surgeon who can perform a heart transplant.
Each morning as I sat in my recliner pouring over God’s word and I prayed “God, are you taking me home? I am tired and it has been a long journey. “ To my utter joy, one morning I felt Him say yes, I am taking you home. So I asked that if possible to wait until I took Ronald to Joe Kubert’s school of Cartoon and Graphic Art in the fall and I needed Him to care for my children and my mother. The sheer hope of seeing Christ energized me to keep going with the task at hand and with my job as a nurse practitioner. (I had graduated and passed my boards in spite of battling this illness by the strength of God). A short time later while sitting in my prayer closet one morning; I asked “Are we going home soon?” His reply was “Yes, but it may not be today, or tomorrow. If I tarry 10 years or 20 or more—keep your eyes on Me” I daresay, I have never forgotten that and now 10 years later, I am still looking with joyful anticipation of one day seeing Him in all His Glory. The journey gets a little easier knowing that. I still had a lot of growing in Him to do before I would find that joy here on earth of reveling in His presence. By fall of 2000, the doctors decided there was nothing else to do but surgery as my body had not responded to the medications. That will be the next step of the journey through pain and suffering.
Let me leave you with this thought. Only God knew what was needed to draw me ever closer to Him. He knew that the only true peace and joy that can be found on this earth is in knowing Him better and deeper. Let me share this song with all my love, I pray that you see the magnificence of His beauty and hold tight to the fact that He leads us every step of the way. He is Sovereign, Omnipotent, Omniscient, and loves His Children with a perfect, unconditional Love. Even when we don’t understand—He has the perfect plan for our lives and “all things work together for good” that one day I might look like Christ. I would walk every step this tear filled journey again, knowing that the result was to know Him better, closer and to see Him dearer.