Most people who know me know that I have asthma. It's not a topic that I
usually bring up in conversation, it's certainly not something I use to
introduce myself, but people tend to notice (and freak out) when my
lungs make whistling noises. Technically, my list of respiratory issues
is a little more involved than just "asthma," but for the sake of not
having a long-drawn out explanation of things that are wrong with my
lungs, let's just say that I have chronic respiratory issues and breathing isn't one of my natural talents.
Some things don't have a timeline, and this happens to be one of them. I like things to have a clear start and end, and I like to be able to plan ahead. Unfortunately, there is no way to "plan ahead" for a sleepless night of coughing fits. There is no way to "plan ahead" for the fact that it sometimes hurts to breathe, or for low oxygen levels partway through the school day that result in low energy levels.
Patience is a little bit of a misnomer at times. I'm so ready to be done
with this struggle! I feel like I pray the same prayers over and over
again and after a while, lately I just stop praying. At what point is
enough enough already? I was patient, I was faithful, and even
though I'm fairly healthy most of the time, I still haven't received the
healing that I hoped for. Sometimes my prayers consist of little more than, God, what more do you want from me?
I'd like to say that the past couple months have been a constant reminder to me that my citizenship is in heaven, and that I eagerly await a Savior who will transform this lowly body to be like his glorified one. I'd like to say that the stress of trying to juggle my schedule and get enough rest has drawn me closer to God. I'd like to say that I am content and rejoicing through circumstances that are beyond my control.
I'd really like to say that. But it's not really true. I'm trying, but I'm tired, I'm frustrated, and quite frankly, it's easier to raise a fist to heaven than to raise an open hand in surrender.
God rains His grace on a closed fist as well as an open hand, but it is difficult for the clenched fist to receive anything.
Yesterday's chapel was about joy in suffering, drawing from 2 Corinthians 12. As I listened, I was reminded of a couple things. First, Paul's thorn didn't ever go away, as far as we know. Whereas Job's testing was replaced with a greater outpouring of material blessings at the end, Paul's thorn stayed there throughout his pleading, and the response he was given was "My grace is sufficient for you." Paul wasn't told "You'll struggle with this thorn for X amount of time and then I'll take it away." He wasn't given a timeline on his trial, but if God's grace is sufficient, then it doesn't have a timeline with a stopping date either. The second thing that struck me was the verse in that passage that I've never committed as carefully to memory. "For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong."
Contentment and rejoicing go hand in hand. It is impossible to rejoice without being content, and it is impossible to be content without rejoicing. Having a good attitude and being positive is doable; positivity fits my personality easily enough. I can think about something else, or if nothing else, I can fake it. Learning to truly be content is a lot more difficult. Contentment acknowledges that "when I am weak, then I am strong" does not always mean that I won't face limitations that I would rather not deal with. It doesn't mean that my treatment plan will always work. It doesn't mean that I won't have days that are exhausting, and it doesn't mean that I'll be able to pull off straight A's. But His grace is always there and it is always more than enough.
I'm struggling, but I'm also learning. I'm learning to see God's grace. I'm learning to be joyful in hope, patient in trials, and faithful in prayer. It's not easy and I'm not very good at it, but slowly, surely, I am learning.
