Running Blind

When I was in the hospital a few weeks ago, the TV became my best friend.  I was blessed with a private room, but when I didn’t have visitors I was incredibly lonely and more than a little freaked out about where I was.  For example I treasure doors that lock.  Lying in my bed that night all I could think was what was to stop some crazy person from just walking into my room?

I left the TV on the whole night.  Periodically little messages from the hospital would pop up on the screen asking if you wanted to learn more about “avoiding the flu” or “preventing falls.”  And every time I clicked no.  Even when I had vertigo years ago, I never fell.  I wasn’t going to waste my time watching a video on it.

And while I didn’t fall that night in the hospital, I did have to laugh at myself, because I repeatedly ran and bumped into things in my room.  I wasn’t on any medication that I wasn’t normally on but somehow just being in the hospital was completely disorienting. 

In order to use the bathroom, I had to unplug the IV machine from the wall and then wheel the IV into the bathroom with me.  And since they were pumping me non-stop full of fluids, that was a frequent occurrence.  Every time I got up, though, that plug fought me to come out of the wall and I wound up banging my knuckles on the bedpost.  And every time I leaned over to get a better look at the plug, I bumped my head on this knob sticking out of the wall.

(It was only a few days ago that I realized the sore spot on my forehead was from that knob.)

And every time I walked into the bathroom, I banged my shoulder or my hip or my knee on the wall or a door frame.  It was a comedy of errors.

If you have been keeping up with my blog for the past six months or so, you know that while I may have literally been disoriented in the hospital, I have been figuratively disoriented, lost and frustrated in my life recently.  Every time I try to do something it seems like I’m running a maze blind.  And since I’m running, every time I hit a dead end, I hit it hard.

Think back to this summer when I tried over and over to get my air conditioning fixed and every time I called someone out, something bad happened.  What started as a simple leak grew into something that involved the copper pipes and then the unit itself.  Fixing it meant going through the downstairs neighbor’s condo, but when they tried that, they broke her pipes leading to her water heater.  When they said they were going to need a jackhammer, I told them no and sent them on their way.

And then there has been my struggle with wanting to go to seminary fulltime and being frustrated because I don’t have the energy to work, go to school and go to church.  It got to such a point that a couple of months ago, I leaned forward in my chair at work and got ready to march down to the principal and give her my two-weeks-notice.  I didn’t know what I was going to do for money; I just knew I couldn’t keep doing what I was doing.

All the while I kept thinking about Jesus asleep on the boat during the storm.  I kept thinking about his delay in saving the synagogue ruler’s daughter and I tried to remind myself that God always has a plan and that, yes, sometimes we are completely blind to it.

As I sat that day in my classroom ready to give my two-weeks-notice, a still small voice managed to break through all the noise in my head.

It was just two words.

They weren’t poetic, but they were profound and the message was for me and me alone.

Two words:  Health Insurance.

As soon as I heard those words, I sat back in my chair and knew without a doubt that I could not quit my job any time soon.  The seminary had made it clear that their insurance was not for people with a chronic condition and whatever these fevers were that had been plaguing me for two years, they were most definitely chronic and most definitely in need of healing.

At the time, I wasn’t in a fever/pain cycle, but the cycle returned a few weeks later, pain worse than ever and sending me to the hospital which I most definitely needed insurance for.

Two words kept me in my job and I am so thankful for those two words because I have since discovered too that the reason I didn't have the energy to teach, go to school and be involved in church is also related to my health.  And I'm hoping that once I feel better, I'll be able to return to teaching with a rediscovered sense of purpose, with a renewed love.  Because I do love teaching.  I know that now more than ever.  I still want to go to seminary fulltime.  But I also know that teaching was my first love and will always be special to me.  And I can't wait to get back to the classroom.

I can’t tell you not to run blindly down the maze of life because that’s exactly what I plan on doing.  It’s in my nature to hurry, to want to get where I’m going already.  But I can tell you that when you hit those brick walls hard, pick yourself up, dust yourself off and turn around and try another way.  Don’t keep running down the same dark, dead end path.

God knows our lives.  He sees it all, past, present and future laid out before Him.  Trusting Him is a lifelong journey, one in which we can only pray that He’ll give us the strength for.