I’m scheduled for surgery a week from tomorrow, so I went for a run this morning. I ran this morning as an act of faith.
It’s been tempting for the last 5 weeks (since calling to schedule my surgery for my endometriosis) to give in to hopelessness. So often I thought, “I’m not in good shape right now, and I’m having surgery soon, so why bother to exercise?” For me, I choosing to run anyways was a prophetic act. It was my way of declaring, even though I’m facing a surgery that has the potential to end in a full hysterectomy, leaving me unable to have kids while still unmarried and in my 20s, that God is good. More than that, I believe that God will/has healed me and I will not need surgery, so there’s no reason to wait to get into shape. But most of all, my choice to run is a declaration that I can and should continue to prepare for the future because, whatever happens, it will be good.
My journey with endometriosis has deepened my faith in incredible ways. It has taught me how to face the facts and still declare that my God is bigger than any circumstance. I believe God, through healing, will make it so that I do not need surgery, and yet if my test tomorrow shows that I do still need surgery, that does not change my faith. It is easier to live only in facts, or only in blind faith; learning how to live in the tension of both facts and faith has shaped me in beautiful ways.
As I have faced the reality that I may need to grieve my ability to have biological children, God has been teaching me how to face grief with joy. The potential for grief is not the same as walking through current grief, so please don’t hear me equating the two. However this journey has helped me in other areas of my life where I am walking through current grief, though that’s more than I can go into in this post. As I’ve approached surgery, I have been tempted to buy into the lie that if I think about how much it could hurt, I’ll be prepared. That’s a lie. These past few years, but especially this past month, God has been teaching me that the only way to ‘prepare’ for potential grief is to practice joy. Joy will not take away the pain of grief, but it will keep us from actively making it worse. I don’t understand how it works; perhaps it’s simply supernatural. What I do know is that joy has allowed me to grieve more deeply and fully in areas of current grief without losing sight of the goodness of God, and the goodness of God always brings peace. Somehow, with God, facing grief has brought me joy.
I will likely know tomorrow whether or not I can cancel the surgery, and so today I ran. Today I declare that God is good. That tomorrow and next week there will be joy whatever the circumstances. God is good, and that is more than enough.