I've been thinking a lot about perspective. How you can think one thing, but then the next thing comes along and puts the former thing in perspective and it doesn't seem so bad or good in comparison. Take, for example, Evan's relationship to Annie. It started like this:
but now has grown to this (but only sometimes):
What was the perspective change? Samuel going to school--so either he plays by himself or decides that his little sister isn't such a bad playmate after all. Again, this is only sometimes.
Or, I always thought peanut M&Ms were so great, and then I tried peanut BUTTER M&Ms and now I can hardly stand the plain peanut ones (okay, "hardly stand" is a bit of an exaggeration...I still grab a handful every time I open the MOPS cupboard at church).
So, last December, I went to the dermatologist to have my moles checked (man, I hate saying that...it sounds so old-ladyish) and the dermatologist was like, "Oh, you have rosacea" and handed me a pamphlet that included pictures of severely disfigured people with their eyes blacked out (to protect their identity) and suggested that this is what I would look like in 10 years. I went home and stressed about it and I think I even cried a little and could hardly look at my face in the mirror without thinking about the pamphlet. It seemed like the worst thing that had ever happened to me, health-wise. Then, I remembered that I had gone to the dermatologist to check for SKIN CANCER and everything was clear...so then I realized I had to be thankful that what I was diagnosed with was really just a vanity issue and had no real health risks.
Fast forward to this summer, when my knee started hurting. "Oh no, I might have torn my miniscus like Jeremy and I won't be able to run for a few weeks or I might have to have surgery!" I thought. How horrible, to have surgery to fix a problem in my knee. My perspective change came when the doctor said, "I'm surprised to see that it's arthritis...I'm not sure why you have it, it usually doesn't come until someone is in their 60's." Suddenly a torn miniscus didn't seem so bad.
Then, I started having some other health concerns, and after going back to the doctor I finally got him to take me seriously and got some blood work done and my tests came back positive for Lupus. Oh my. You can guess what I'm going to say now: Suddenly, rosacea and arthritis don't sound too bad. And just when I convinced myself that I would be fine and I would control my diet and excercise and be super healthy in order to keep the disease at bay and not have to go on scary steriods for the rest of my life, I found out that whatever is going on with me is probably affecting my hearing. My hearing! Now being in a wheelchair or having a knee replacement doesn't sound so bad.
Needless to say, the past few weeks have been...burdensome. It feels noisy in my head, all the wondering and wishing and the acute awareness of all pain or discomfort in my body. It's like every morning I wake up and have lupus lupus pain what's going to happen not me lupus going through my mind. And I haven't even been to the rhuematologist to confirm everything and discuss treatment yet. It's been exhausting and distracting and I keep waiting for the moment to come where I become this inspirational woman who fights through the illness and is commended for her amazing spirit blah blah blah. But I've kind of just been a big baby inside, which is not inspirational at all.
But, over the last few days, I feel a shift coming on. I realize how much of this possible diagnosis affects my vanity and pride, and those aren't bad things to have refined out of me, right? And I keep learning about young moms who have cancer or whose kids have serious illnesses and I keep being reminded about how much worse this could be. Perspective. The writer of another blog I love to read has posted prayer requests for other mothers struggling with far worse things than I, and only this week shared that one of her closest friends had a stroke while exercising and they are uncertain of what the damage to her brain has been or whether she'll even make it. Okay, I'll take my little not-yet-confirmed Lupus diagnosis, God.
But that's not where my perspective change really happened...it was when I remembered God. Not just trying to jump ahead to the lessons I think He wants to teach me but to think about Him. I listened to a John Piper sermon that said that the Lord's prayer starts with "Hallowed be your name" because that is the end of all praise--the very nature of God himself--and only ends with the "daily bread" stuff...on which I have been spending all my time focusing.
Then, yesterday, I took Sam to the funeral of a man from our church who was a World War II veteran and had spent 3.5 years in a Japanese concentration camp where he traded 14 cigarette butts for a Bible out of boredom and subsequently realized that being good wasn't good enough and spent the rest of his humble life proclaiming that message to others. He was missing an eye, and I still haven't heard where he lost it--someone said they thought cancer--and I thought that was significant...even in the testimony of all he had been through, losing an EYE wasn't talked about because he had decided what was most important and had lived with his focus on heaven.
And, do you know what? I woke up this morning with the words Jesus Jesus and the phrase I will enter his gates with thanksgiving in my heart running through my mind, and it has been a better day than I've had for a month. Perspective.
I don't know what's ahead and I of course hope that something flukey has happened and I don't even have lupus at all, but I know that it's okay if I do. For some reason, I wanted to write about this on my blog because I keep looking at the picture at the heading of my blog and thinking about the title--this world is not my home but God has given me a strong hand to hold while I pass through the bumpy parts. And anyway, there sure are still A LOT of great parts to enjoy!
