What defines me?

I am NOT my pain.

I think that one area that is easy to get sucked into while living with chronic pain or illness is the trap of thinking that our pain defines us - that our identity lies in our pain. But, I don't think this is an issue only for those of us living in chronic pain. I have mentioned before that I used to be a farmer. For five years I spent most of my time enveloped in the farming lifestyle. I wore overalls and farm dresses and straw hats. I went to meetings about farming. I took farming classes. I worked day after day in the blazzing sun or freezing rain - planting, weeding, harvesting. I LOVED to identify with fellow farmers and the community it produced. I was so proud to call myself a farmer! A couple days ago I posted about how God took us from the farm and called us to something totally different. That was just last year, but the pain that brought to me and my husband sometimes feels like a fresh wound. We miss the farm. But through this experience I have been learning an important lesson: my identity needs to rest in God alone. Last year this was even more clear as my husband and I had to step down from youth ministry which I had been doing for about 13 years. AND we had to leave our home Church, our Island, and living minutes away from much of our family. I had taken identity in all of these things and then suddenly they were all gone. I hadn't been married long, so even my new role as wife wasn't something I relied on for my identity.

Having nothing that I used to feel defined by was a scarry place. I have walked through much of this year feeling slightly lost and very lonely. When people ask me to tell them about myself I sometimes don't know what to say. We have grown up looking to things for our identity, and our culture in many ways defines who we are by what we do and our role in society. I think this is kind of a natural thing to do, but I also think it can be damaging. What happens when jobs are lost, relationships end, children grow up and leave the home, health changes, beauty fades?

As a follower of Jesus, I want to be defined by Him. I want people to see me as one who trusts and loves the Creator of the Universe. I want people to see the various roles I have and will have in my life as part of my joy as living for the glory of God no matter what I do. I want people to see my pain as a part of the life I have been given for this time, and to see that it isn't my identity - it's just part of the circumstances I live in day by day.

Blessings

I wasn't the MOST social person in college. In fact at the end of my Freshman year I had one girl on my HALL say that she had never seen me outside of my room. (which isn't true I did go out ... but wasn't exactly doing what the popular kids were doing) ... During my first year I had two super close friends who I hung out with non-stop. Most of the time we were doing things like listening to music in our rooms, taking walks around the little town, reading "Little Women" together and talking about everything. Let me back-track: in high school I really didn't have a lot of friends, in fact most of the time I just hung out with my siblings (which was a ton of fun). I remember walking down the stairs when I was about 16 and hearing my mom and dad talking about how to get me to hang out with friends. I was happy being alone for the most part. I liked to cook and garden and babysit. I wasn't the cool kid into sports or fashion or - heaven forbit : BOYS - ick! So when I went to Bible college just after turning 18 I really didn't know what it was like to have close friends. Thankfully, all that changed during the first month of college. In February that year I got sick - I had always had health issues but in February I began having severe pain in my side and when I went home for spring break my mom took one look at me and said that she wasn't going to let me go back. I left my room all set up, my classes (which thankfully my professers let me take through the mail), and worst of all my two best friends. I was devastated. But I was also so sick that I knew I couldn't go back. I know that during that first surgery and time at home visiting scarry doctors that my friends kept me going through their cards (yes REAL letters not just email!), care-packages and even visits.

It's been 14 years since that first year of college. I have lost touch with most of my friends from that time. But those 2 girls that became my best friends during those college years are still precious to me. One of them just came down for a visit. She lives three hours away but she continues to drive down and spend time with me. The two of us have been through thick and thin together. Through times when we were mad at each other - but it always ends up that nothing can make us ditch the friendship. We've both had tons of surgeries and times when we had to be strong for each other. But through it all we're still there for each other and I know that we always will be.

Sometimes I get mad at myself and at my situation because of the fact that I never graduated. I sometimes feel like a failure because of that. BUT, as I sat today with one of the dearest friends I have and watched her kids play I realized that maybe God had me go to school not to get a degree and have some kind of stamp of approval on my life ... but rather to gain one of the biggest and best blessings of my life in this abiding friendship.

I guess life is like that. Sometimes what we think we want more than anything is just a roadmap to get us to where God really wants us, and for Him to give us what is more precious than what we went looking for in the first place.

Am I the answer to my parents prayers?

So often I hear people say things like: "I don't care if I have a boy, or a girl, as long as it's healthy.", or, "We just want a healthy baby." I'm not "healthy", and I have pain every day. This makes me wonder: am I the opposite of what my parents probably prayed for me?

I was suppoed to be born in October. It was a summer day in early August when my mom started having contractions and found herself in full-flung labor. daddy called his mom and said she was in labor and my Grammie said: "Oh no honey, she's not having the baby til October". But a few hours later the doctor announced: "It's a girl!" My parents, who were in Bible school with my 23 month older sister didn't have a home or money or health insurance. In 1978 the over $6,000 hospital bills to keep me in an incubator and feed me with a tube were stagering. They had to set up payment plans to cover the bills. I am sure that as they were holding this tiny baby they were scarred. I could have had a lot of health issues as a baby - but nothing really serious showed up - but I never was the healthy kid - plagued with asthma, eczema, allergies and then pain from when I was 11 on. I still wonder if being 2 months early had anything to do with my poor immune system and issues - but I guess we will never know.

I'm glad that I lived. It hasn't been easy being sick my whole life. It hasn't been easy on my parents, or my entire family and friends. But I trust a God who uses and redeems even the hard parts of life. Nothing needs to be wasted - even the pain.

I pray for our future children. My husband and I long for the day God will put a baby in our arms. I pray for health - but in the same breath I pray that God will give us the children that we need and we will be the parents that they need - healthy or not. Every one of us on this planet is going to suffer. God give us the grace and faith to be all that He wants us to be in whatever suffering we endure and may it all be for His glory.