I never meant to go this long without writing here. But it's been a few months.
My little Grasshopper has celebrated his first Christmas, and he's had his first birthday. I've celebrated my fourth American Thanksgiving in Canada, and picked up packages for Christmas at my post office box in Washington for the fourth time. Time seems to pass so doggone quickly.
But in other ways, time does NOT pass quickly or efficiently enough.
I am STILL waiting for surgery, only we have now lost confidence in the current surgeon and are hoping to get into the only other fistula surgeon in BC before the first surgeon calls me up for surgery. We are still waiting to hear from the hospital, although we do know that they sent my files to an outside physician for review. My fistula is now symptomatic daily again, and that means I have hit a wall in the physical therapy until the fistula and open wound I live with is taken care of.
So with all that said, I have to be honest and say that this has done a real number on my faith. Once again, I find myself asking God if He exists, if He cares, if He has any power. I told Him (or the ceiling if He doesn't exist after all) that my faith is like my stomach. They are both like wobbling bowls of jelly, too easily shaken at the first sign of difficulty. I thought I was done wrestling with the existence and involvement of God in human affairs after my student teaching in Argentina and a few other traumatic times in my life. After all, I've spent most of this year speaking of my trust in Him despite these awful circumstances. But this past week, hearing my family doctor say that he had broken his promise to refer me to a second surgeon (and one recommended to me by two international fistula surgeons as well as a local radiologist and my physical therapists) because he had a "check", meaning a "check in his spirit". And that made me realize how often I hear God's name get thrown around as reasons for people doing things or not doing things. That left me wondering if I was just mad at all the people who claim to be His followers or if I was mad at Him. Then I started to wonder how many things are really His doing or really just circumstances. And before I knew it, I was plunged into a despairing cycle of hopelessness. (This was further complicated by the news that our friends who moved from South Africa specifically to partner with us in our outdoor business/ministry have suddenly decided to probably take another job at a camp instead of working with us. And of course, the excuse given was "God's leading".)
But I will admit that though I can't say that I'm firm on my beliefs about God and His existence or involvement in my life at this point in time, I can say that I have had the most interesting dreams about things while I've slept. That's unusual for me, and I can't help but wonder if He isn't sending me those dreams to reassure me - His temper tantrum throwing child - of His reality and care. All I can say is that I sure hope so.
And I hope that somehow, somewhere, sometime soon, someone operates on my fistula and fixes it perfectly once and for all. No excuses. No mistakes. No more limits on my life. I want to know what it means to run and exercise, to swim and climb, to love my husband, to have the possibility of another child one day, and to have a healthy body once again. It's been so long.
But the thing I want most, or maybe this comes in tied with my longing for physical wholeness......I want to know that I know that I know that I know that God is real and that He cares about me. No more wavering. No more anger.
Of course, none of this is possible on my own. And to be honest, I'm pretty sure a miracle or two is going to be necessary.
As for writing, I will try to keep it up. It's just a little hard with a wee one hanging on me and trying to type his own posts. =)