I Can Face Tomorrow
It was both unnerving and frustrating when, for the better part of a year, my doctors sent me back and forth like a hot potato no one wanted to handle. Tempers began to flare, as one raised his eyebrows over the tests another had ordered, one actually made a call in my presense, and left a message that the other had been unprofessional, and a new neurologist, or new neurosurgeon, was recommended, time and again.
This is what happens when you have both a rather rare disease - trigeminal neuralgia, and a rather rare presentation of that disease - atypical. Whoops, my neurosurgeon doesn't like it to be called by that name. He says, "Just forget the term, "atypical", while unable to give me any other explanation of why I was sent to him.
In any case, after collecting tests, and finally, his name, it seemed all of this was necessary in order to put all of the pieces together, to put into the lap of Dr. Brown, a neurosurgeon people travel from all over the US to see.
It all seemed to be adding up, except for one little detail. All this time, God had been "mum" on the whole affair. Not once, did He speak to me about it, though he spoke to me about other things. The fact that someone we didn't even know, offered to get us hotel accomodations at "employee rate", seemed like a good indication we were on the right track, and yet, here I was headed for brain surgery with no sure word.
I was scheduled for July 8, a Monday. The day before, it was my turn to sing with the worship team. I called the guy in charge and asked if he could give me the names of the songs. I don't like to lead a song I don't know very well, so I thought, if necessary, I would listen to the songs on YouTube.
As it turned out, he had two songs in mind, but hadn't come up with a third. He asked if I had a suggestion. The song, Because He Lives, was the first thing to pop into my head. I found that strange. My choir had sung the song more than 30 years earlier, shortly after I had my first child. One verse was particulaly meaningful at that time. It said, "How sweet to hold a newborn baby and feel the pride and joy he gives".... That child was born out of wedlock.
I had heard or sung the song many times since that, but I don't think it is one of the mainstays at our church, at least not in recent years. That morning, as we sang, I knew I had picked the song out for myself because God had a message for me in it. "Tomorrow" had always been a vague generic term for me before, as I had sung it, but this time, "tomorrow" was actually going to be the day of my brain surgery, and I could face it because, as the song says, "I know who holds the future, and I can face uncertain days, because He lives".
I now knew, as well, why God hadn't spoken to me about the surgery. I struggle with fear of the unknown; better known as worry. I wanted God to specifically give me details, so I'd know everything was going to be ok, but He was calling me to something higher, trust, pure and simple trust, not in the particulars, but trust in the fact He is always in control and working things out for my good.
This is what happens when you have both a rather rare disease - trigeminal neuralgia, and a rather rare presentation of that disease - atypical. Whoops, my neurosurgeon doesn't like it to be called by that name. He says, "Just forget the term, "atypical", while unable to give me any other explanation of why I was sent to him.
In any case, after collecting tests, and finally, his name, it seemed all of this was necessary in order to put all of the pieces together, to put into the lap of Dr. Brown, a neurosurgeon people travel from all over the US to see.
It all seemed to be adding up, except for one little detail. All this time, God had been "mum" on the whole affair. Not once, did He speak to me about it, though he spoke to me about other things. The fact that someone we didn't even know, offered to get us hotel accomodations at "employee rate", seemed like a good indication we were on the right track, and yet, here I was headed for brain surgery with no sure word.
I was scheduled for July 8, a Monday. The day before, it was my turn to sing with the worship team. I called the guy in charge and asked if he could give me the names of the songs. I don't like to lead a song I don't know very well, so I thought, if necessary, I would listen to the songs on YouTube.
As it turned out, he had two songs in mind, but hadn't come up with a third. He asked if I had a suggestion. The song, Because He Lives, was the first thing to pop into my head. I found that strange. My choir had sung the song more than 30 years earlier, shortly after I had my first child. One verse was particulaly meaningful at that time. It said, "How sweet to hold a newborn baby and feel the pride and joy he gives".... That child was born out of wedlock.
I had heard or sung the song many times since that, but I don't think it is one of the mainstays at our church, at least not in recent years. That morning, as we sang, I knew I had picked the song out for myself because God had a message for me in it. "Tomorrow" had always been a vague generic term for me before, as I had sung it, but this time, "tomorrow" was actually going to be the day of my brain surgery, and I could face it because, as the song says, "I know who holds the future, and I can face uncertain days, because He lives".
I now knew, as well, why God hadn't spoken to me about the surgery. I struggle with fear of the unknown; better known as worry. I wanted God to specifically give me details, so I'd know everything was going to be ok, but He was calling me to something higher, trust, pure and simple trust, not in the particulars, but trust in the fact He is always in control and working things out for my good.
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