Will I Still Have Faith if I Don't Get Well?

     Although I was told how long treatment would take, and even though I understood that recovery was a journey full of set backs, and times of regression, and despite learning how my disease could affect me differently every day, I still remained blindly hopeful that I would be the exception to all the rules.  Probably my expectations of a quick and easy recovery were grounded in how quickly I improved in the beginning.  I figured that even though bad days would happen, I would continue to get well at a steady pace.

     Surprise! I am definitely not an exception to the rules!

     As soon as my recovery plateaued my doctor changed my treatment regimine.  Feeling a little better doesn't mean I'm better.  It means those darn germs are good at hiding, buried deep in my body tissue, waiting for me to stop bombarding them with medicine.  Time to out-ninja them and change my arsenal.   The good news is, we are killing them again!  The bad news is, I am spending my summer stuck at home.

     I spent all winter being ok with being housebound.  I looked forward to the summer and hoped to be well enough to at least enjoy sitting on the beach.  I wasn't expecting to not only regress, but regress to the point that my seizure activity would return.  A month ago I was celebrating being able to shop without a motor cart, now a trip to the store is overwhelming.  I am watching the majority of my friends on Facebook enjoying the beautiful Maine outdoors trying not to be jealous.

     I spent a few weeks trying to force myself to do the things I felt I should be able to do.  Of course, my body didn't cooperate and that caused me to be frustrated and a tad depressed.  I finally accepted the fact that this summer wasn't going to be what I had hoped and I let go of expectations that were impossible to meet.  I then began to contemplate what God wanted to teach me.

     The first thing I did was make the decision to spend my time in bed growing closer to God.  I've been listening to sermons online, reading online Bible studies and praying.  The first realization I had was that my desire to get well was largely due to my desire to control my life again.  I wanted to work and be in charge of my income.  I am emotionally tired from daily having to pray and have faith that my needs would be met.  Scott and I have often joked about God's sense of humor, waiting until the last possible second to meet our need.  I was reminded, through my studies, that God does this because He wants to ensure all credit is given to Him!  What better way to grow our faith, and the faith of others, then by miraculous intervention.  It is so hard to live this way, but I would rather live this way and have what we need then try and control things myself and not be able to pay for all four of us to be treated for Lyme Disease.  I know that if I were left in control we wouldn't even come close to having enough money.

     The bedroom in our new home is big enough for me to keep my book cases in it.  I have been sitting in my bed looking at the books on the shelves for weeks and it only just recently occurred to me that I have plenty of time to read.  Over the winter my ability to read was hit or miss, this summer that is one thing I have been able to do more consistently.  My grandparents had a huge collection of books and I claimed many of them.  Almost all of their books were of christian origin, many from over thirty years ago.  I realized I had the treasure of all the literature that contributed to my grandparents faith.  What a legacy left for me!  What better use of my time then reading these christian works written so long ago.

      The first book I randomly chose was a collection of three condensed books.  I picked away at reading them slowly, until yesterday.  Yesterday I became engrossed in a book titled, "His Banner Over Me" by Martha Snell Nicholson.  The first thing that drew me into her story was her childhood love of the outdoors.  Just like I always felt I was a "kindred spirit" to Anne of Green Gables, I quickly felt a connection to Martha Snell.  I thought, at first, her story would be a story of how she worshiped God through her poetry, which I assumed was inspired by her love of nature.  It didn't take long for me to discover that our love of nature wasn't all we had in common.


     Martha was a sickly child who often missed school.  Despite her many absences, she strove to achieve good grades.  She also loved studying philosophy, sociology, and psychology.   Our childhood and teen years were extremely similar.  As a young adult Martha watched her mother die from cancer.  This left herself and her two sisters home to care for their dad while attempting to attend school.  Martha took a job working in a library, during this time her sisters left home and Martha took on the household duties while continuing to work.  When one sister returned home able to assist with these tasks, Martha's body final gave out and Martha found herself sick and bedridden.

    A new doctor was called.  Like most chronic lyme patients, Martha had seen many doctors over her life and been given many diagnoses.  Finally, this new doctor diagnosed her with tuberculosis.  Martha spent the next seven years bed ridden.  SEVEN YEARS!  Here I am feeling sorry for myself because it's been nine months.  Not only was she bed ridden, but she spent many of those years away from her loved ones in a sanitarium, and then in TB Boarding Houses.

     As I read these details about Martha's life and saw the similarities to my own health issues, I became curious about what it was like to have TB in the early 20th century.  Even now TB is difficult to treat, requiring months of multiple antibiotics over a long period of time.  When Martha was alive, having active TB was serious to the point of death.     Antibiotics weren't yet available for these patients, and the only "treatment" was a risky surgery that collapsed the lung causing it to 'rest' allowing the lesions to heal.  Martha had this surgery and came out of it sicker then before.  Patients during this era were also isolated from society in sanatoriums which were self-contained communities often considered the waiting rooms for death.  Patients were expected to rest most of the time and only some were allowed to participate in light exercise.  Along with this, they were forbidden to speak to each other about their illness or discuss death, both their own and the death of others.  The purpose was to keep an atmosphere of positive thinking, focused only on getting well.  Patients were only able to get their thoughts on their illness out by journaling.

     Eventually, Martha was well enough to return home, and she was even able to get married!  She had a handful of years where she was healthy enough to keep house and enjoy life as a wife.  To soon, illness became a part of Martha's life again.  This time the doctor encouraged her to move to California.  California was where Martha and her husband went from simple faith in God, to a real understanding of Bible Doctrine.   Martha began to really study the Bible and discovered that her desire to learn about philosophy and sociology could happen through her study of the scriptures.  As time passed, her health once again improved.  She had begun to write poetry inspired by her studies in God's Word.  She later wrote that during this time of health she wasted a lot of time.  She was studying the Bible, but was doing nothing to actually serve God.  Soon, Martha found herself in bed again due to severe pain.  She would spend the next twenty-five years in bed.

     While I was reading this I kept waiting for the happy ending.  When I read that Martha spent the next twenty-five years in bed I felt I had been smacked in the face.  I thought God had led me to this story to show me that I shouldn't be so impatient to get well.  Now, I was faced with the realization that sometimes it isn't in God's will for his children to recover from illness.  I had this as a head knowledge, but I had avoided considering this as a possibility for my own circumstances.   When this knowledge had previously attempted to enter the front of my mind I had pushed it back with excuses.  Reading this truth in this context prevented me from reasoning away the possibility that maybe life won't ever get easier here on this earth.  As soon as I accepted this fact, I then was faced with the decision......will I still trust God?

     Although Martha spent the next twenty-five years in bed, that time was spent serving God.  She had lost all excuses to use the God given talent of taking his word and expressing it clearly through poetry.  Over these years, stuck in her home, she wrote seven books of poetry and many tracts.  She was only able to experience church through her radio.  She was only able to experience fellowship through others coming to visit her.  During this time her husband also became sick and bed ridden.  The two of them were completely dependent on God's provision.  Eventually, she lost her husband to his illness.

     I either trust God or I don't.  It's really very simple.  So, yes, I trust God.  No matter what.  Martha didn't know that her years in bed would prepare her for the work she did during her life time.  Not only that, she didn't know how far reaching the affect of her illness was on the lives of others.  Here I sit, 100 years after she was first diagnosed with TB, finding comfort in her autobiography.  A book, long out of print, found its way into my bedroom and has helped give me perspective considering my own illness.  If God had graced her with a quick recovery, her life would have in no way ever touched mine.  How can I question the Will of God?  I will end this blog with a poem written by Martha.

Pain

Does your bitter load of grief, tears and pain, 
Seem to great for you to bear?                                                            
Don't complain.  you are only being made fit to reign;
Fit to reign, with Christ our Lord.

Surely we are all unfit, all untaught;
And if wise and lively lore, knowing naught,
All the gold of Uphoe could not have bought,
Private lessons from a King.

Precious pain to teach His child, used of God, 
Taught by very God Himself, and we complain.