30 days…

Trevor is visiting the surgeon with me on Thursday.  Its my “within 30 days of the surgery” appointment.

My list of questions is pretty lengthy.  And apparently Trevor has questions of his own, so he’s joining me:-)

I’m amused, because my first reaction was that I didn’t need anyone to come along!  I’m a grown adult capable woman, for heaven’s sake.

That’s so very quintessential Susan, and likely all of us.  I can do it myself, thank you very much.  I’ve got this.  No thank you.  I can get the door, I can go down the stairs, handle the curb, carry the groceries, pay the bills.  I’m good, thanks.

In other words, get away.  Don’t interfere.

But the real heart of it is is: Please, please, please, don’t see me as broken/helpless/insufficient. The eyes-on-myself truth.

This surgery is hard in a lot of ways.  I’ve already published  the ones that make me look good in your eyes in prior posts.  “The ultra spiritual woman who just can’t bear to think of herself without this grace in her life”. Wow.

Ouch.  Yes, I’m that yukky.

Trevor is coming along because he knows me.  He really knows his mom, and his heart somehow understands that I am afraid of letting go of something that has defined me for a lot of years, and I do sincerely testify to an overwhelming goodness of God in the chaos of brokenness.  He also knows that going back to “helpless” won’t be my finest hour. Won’t be easy.

But this time I’m going into brokenness with my eyes open. It’s not a surprise, and I’m willingly submitting. I’m choosing “helpless” and my own insufficiency.  I’m choosing the goodness of God, despite outcomes.

So we both have questions.  Not sure what his are, but my guess is that he will want to know how I can face this…pain. Again.

God is everything that heals.

Alpha.

Omega.

Sufficient.

Stitches, scars and scared

So yesterday I went online to read about my upcoming three surgical procedures.

Definitely an “Oh dear” couple of moments. I still feel queasy :-)  Pictures are icky, ugly, scary.

My mom and I had dinner together last night, and we talked about healing.  Could God miraculously heal me before this surgery ??  No cuts, no sewing me up, no cast, no rehab, no struggle.  The  answer to the question is of course a resounding YES.

And I have to say I’m open to that!  I am.  Sounds pretty wonderful and I would love to be the recipient of such power.

But then… there’s this truth:  He has healed me.  I am the recipient of His power, and I have been part of a miracle.

For isn’t it a miracle to be rescued from bitterness, to be freed from unforgiveness, to be overwhelmed by grace?

Isn’t it amazing that mercies are new every morning, and that what I received today will be different from what I receive tomorrow?

And isn’t it miraculous to find wholeness in an awkward walk and a hand that can no longer play piano with abandon?

Is God capable of healing me further?  Yes. Will he do that before September 12, on September 12, or after Sept. 12.?  I don’t know.

But I know He IS Power. I know He is love.  I know He loves me, even when my faith falters and my steps are graceless.

And I know He heals.  He healed me.

“One single drop of rain
Your salty tear became blue ocean
One tiny grain of sand turning in Your hand
A world in motion
You’re out beyond the furthest Morning Star
Close enough to hold me in Your arms.

Adonai, I lift up my heart and I cry
My Adonai
You are the Maker of each moment
Father of my hope and freedom
Oh, my Adonai
One timid faithful knock
Resounds upon the Rock of Ages
One trembling heart and soul
Becomes a servant bold and courageous
You call across the mountains and the seas
I answer from the deepest part of meAdonai, I lift up my heart and I cry
My Adonai
You are the Maker of each moment
Father of my hope and freedom
Oh, my AdonaiFrom age to age you reign in Majesty
And today You’re making miracles in meAdonai, I lift up my heart and I cry
My Adonai
You are the Maker of each moment
Father of my hope and freedom
Oh, my Adonai”