Wednesday, September 19, 2012

Gratitude Precedes the Miracle

From CaringBridge site:

Written Jul 23, 2012 12:22pm by Renee Albracht

Gratitude precedes the miracle.

Yesterday, God promised a miracle through redemption. Today He taught me that giving thanks leads to trust in Him.

The words of Ann Voskamp read like poetry through prose. Her thoughts slow my mind, grafting me into her world of peace. Today's chapter spoke of trust. Worry, anxiety, stress are forms of disbelief.

Giving thanks leads to trust.

Give thanks when a wife cheats and says she never really loved you? Give thanks when a daughter is tragically taken from you? Give thanks when your livelihood is ebbing away piece by piece every single day?

When we look upon thanksgiving, there is ultimately just one--Christ.
The truth, the trust, the thanks is for Christ Jesus. If God gave us His one and only Son, would He not give us abundantly more?

As I read the words of Scripture, as I read the words of Ann Voskamp, my stomachache and my body aches faded from my thoughts. They are still here, but for a moment, totally surrendered in prayer, they vanished.

Last night, I sat in bed planning on reading more Scripture and giving thanks. Thank you for...for what? For this agonizing stomach ache that has plagued me for two days, the stomach ache that now feels like I ate four meals at once and was then immediately kicked in the stomach? I cannot even kneel. I cannot sit up straight. I lay flat and the stomach hurts worse. I lay on my sides and my shoulders cry out in pain.

I broke down. I did not ask to go home, to His home, like I often do. I asked to die. Some say when we die we immediately go to heaven to be with Him. Some say we sleep until the second coming. Sleep, the not knowing or caring or feeling, was perfectly fine with me. I have not asked to die since those early lonely days in my bedroom. Now, like then, I felt the walls closing in upon me.

Looking out my window
Looking out to see
nothing but reflections
of this room behind me.

Those are the lonesome words of despair I wrote as a child alone in my room, overcome by panic and praying for death. Those words echoed in my head once again. I can't take the pain anymore. Please let me die.

I knew that was a selfishh prayer. Ask for the death on the eve of my mother's big trip? Ask for death days before my cousin's special day? Overshadow what should be their happiest of moments with the granting of my most selfish plea?  

I hoped that He would come to me now like He did then. Comfort me. Console me. Breathe life into my lungs once again.

I felt His presence, but I did not feel comforted. I felt scared, terrified by my inability to cope with the future, a future I must endure alone, a future no one can take from me or make any easier for me. How can I go through one more session of chemo if I cannot recover from the last? How will I ever be able to get through it? The smells alone make me sick. I am already sick. The poison they put inside of me makes me sick. How will my body ever be able to endure it?

The tears would not stop rolling. The deep sobs would not cease. My Bailey, my comfort, was frightened and left my side. Loneliness crept in along side the fear. I longed for someone to lay in bed and hold me. To stay there and rub my back until I fell asleep. But, I had no one. The only one I wanted was no longer mine. Even if he could have been there, asking that of him would have blurred the lines of what we have become.

I could not ask that of my friend, Mike, although we are as close as siblings. That, too, seemed out of line.

Everyone else was too far away.

I thought about all the people I could call. My mom. But, I don't want to worry her the day before she leaves for Poland. I want her to enjoy her trip. My sister. But it is past the boy's bedtime and I did not want to worry her and disturb her rest. My dad, but I didn't want to worry him either. What could any of them really do when they are so far away?

There are countless others from church and from work. One who has recently been through this as well and would understand the best. I could even call my ex, but he was traveling and what good would it do to worry him?

These were all poor excuses, I know. I knew it even then, but I felt stuck...almost a good kind of stuck. With so much love out there, which one should I turn to? Any one of them would have gladly taken my call. Any one of them would have stayed on the phone with me until I felt better. Many of them would have come over and been there to rub my back and stay with me until I fell asleep.

I could not sleep all night...at least not much. When I did, I had terrible dreams about those I care about getting hurt or on the verge of death. I even had a dream about a doll taking over the body of a child and tormenting people...a bit like Chucky except she was beautiful. We kept trying to pawn her off on people. They took her because of her beauty, but brought her back because of her evilness. Finally, a big bear with a red hat and red balloon wanted her. He told her he promised to love her and take care of her and give her a cookie. Then, she became a sweet angel and they lived happily ever after. Someone care to explain that one to me???

I was reluctant to share this today because I know some of you worry. But, others have been grateful for my honesty. So, I wanted to continue with the honesty, especially after the peace of prayer this morning. (BTW, the doctor just called and told me I can stop taking the antibiotic that I credit with upsetting my stomach. Hopefully, I'll be all better for my trip tomorrow.)

Thank You, Father, for the stomach ache that led to my fear and loneliness. Maybe sometime, I can be the one to console someone else going through what I am going through now.

Thank You for Bailey snuggling in bed with me last night. Thank you for the cute way she got up and got agitated with me because of my tossing and turning.

Thank you for the peace of today and for Ann Voskamp's obedience to your call to write that book and seek publication for it.

Thank you for Paul's obedience to minister to your churches which led to the writing of the Epistles.

Thank you for good friends and family, especially those whom I have drawn closer to as a result of this temporary suffering. Thank you for a doctor who responds to my calls quickly. I do call often!

Thank you for this outlet. Writing is my therapy! Thank you for an eye that is open and for two eyes that can read.

Thank you for the sacrifice of Jesus Christ and the Holy Spirit who now dwells in me. Thank you that You are now accessible to all through the blood of Jesus Christ.

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