HERE

You. Are. Here.  

October 19, 2019.  Yep, here I am.  Rockin’ my routine and working within the cozy confines of my comfort zone. I am not an adventurous person.  I have a deep appreciation for structure and the beauty of things remaining the same. Uniformity. Straight Lines. Symmetry. I’ve got everything lined up in perfect rows just like I like it.  When everything is as it should be, I can breathe and function almost like a normal person. Almost.

I’ll admit, though, that what’s happening right now is different than I had planned.  But I know I just need to tough it out and work through it.  Although…yeah, there are these bothersome doubts that keep trying to crash through my answer to take care of what is going on. Go away. I got this.

Hello…  Bothersome Doubts here.  Please listen to us!  What if this isn’t a virus?  What if something is really wrong?  What if this pain is, in fact, as bad as it feels instead of not so bad for someone who is not so wimpy?  What if by waiting, you are compromising your health?   

Those doubtful thoughts about what was happening on this day kept trying, but I stood firm on my perch atop the empty air and would not give in.  The doubts kept interrupting my monologue with myself.  They whispered.  Then they talked.  And then they shouted extreme and frightful ideas, like this:      

What if…

“You. Are. Here.” is a lie, and reality is way over HERE?

On Sunday October 20th, I had emergency surgery at 3:30am.  Me, who has never had major surgery before. 

I learned much from this unplanned unwelcomed medical adventure. 

I learned who I really was when all my hard won schemes were stripped away and my walls fell down and landed in disheveled heaps of rubble.  I stood looking through the haze at the previously hidden horizon.  It was shocking and overwhelming.      

I learned about being HERE. HERE is new and different and foreign.  It’s full of wide open unidentifiable spaces when I love small and cozy and safe.  But during this journey, it’s where I needed to be to learn from the harsh reality that had invaded my mundane daily life.  HERE is where I fully experienced the futility of elaborate measures taken to control my minute corner of the world.

I learned that I have trust issues.  Big ones.  

Issues with trusting myself.  I see so clearly now that I did not trust my reaction to extreme pain enough to call for help.  There was a level of terror there, but I just kept talking it down in my head so that I was able to keep the lies monologue on replay that said I could do this on my own and everything would be fine. 

Issues with trusting God.  For so long, I have lived afraid of being afraid. Afraid of being all in for anything.  Afraid and trying my best to fix my life so that all I experience is level and smooth with no sharp turns or jagged edges or messiness.  But on this path I did not choose, I learned that my mess is where God will remind me who I am in Him and who He is.  And though we all have those times when life does not make any sense at all, I learned that if I will just stop all this nonsense trying to fix up what needs to be completely replaced, I can rest in the assurance that He has a plan and a purpose for everything, especially those tough times that don’t have easily formulated answers.  Tough times like HERE, this new place that began with emergency major invasive surgery.   

Looking back on those hours that I kept refusing to call 911, I learned that sometimes pain can be so severe that you lose the ability to think logically.  Your brain has stepped down.  Your entire human body system becomes hyper focused on the pain.  You don’t realize reality.  In an effort to handle the pain, I found myself crying and moaning and yelling and praying and curling up into the fetal position.  Huge red flags everywhere that this was much more than the average stomach pain from a virus. 

I’m so grateful to God that He chose to send me a lightning bolt. BAM!  It jolted everything everywhere in my world.  In the stillness came a moment of clarity that brought my speeding monologue of lies to a violent and full stop. A moment when I saw reality illuminated in a way that I could no longer deny.  It was then that I finally called for help.  I look back on this and it’s sobering to realize the full impact of what could have happened.  I was in a serious situation that could have become a critical situation and compromised my health.  I was alone if you don’t count my beloved cat, who did nothing but stare at me.  I don’t blame him.  I was acting like a crazy woman.       

I learned that in a situation like this there are many variables that determine the outcome.  There were complications after the surgery.  Very scary stuff for me with no medical knowledge and no health issues until this.  Complications that if not addressed quickly could have had my story ending very differently. But God. Period.

I also ponder the possibility that I could have died.  Along with that, I know I could have ended up living with the results of a variety of after surgery complications that would have made a tough situation tougher and perhaps negatively impacted my quality of life.   

My quality of life.  It’s very different now, in a good way.  It is new and beautiful and so sweet. 

HERE, I learned the vast difference between knowing and KNOWING.  Before this happened, if asked, I would have said, “Of course I know my Savior loves me!” A knee jerk, right-answer-for-a-Christian answer. But now, I see so clearly that no, I didn’t really know this.  I didn’t really know this at all.

Now I KNOW.  He loves me enough that He orchestrated different situations in my story so that I would finally be able to see, really see, all that I have access to in my relationship with Him.  I am so humbled, and so in awe of what He has shown me, and I never want to stop nurturing this whole new perspective.  I want to embrace it, and embody it, and let others know that this newfound amazement at all He is…is real.  REAL. 

HERE is where I belong.  A new home for me.  I want to start a new journey.  One where I begin to learn to appreciate the wide open spaces and embrace the unknowns with this newfound confidence that I am never alone, and I am so loved.  Always.  Whether I feel it or not.

He has given me beautiful new shapes instead of my perfectly aligned rows. I am His tapestry, brilliant, beautifully designed, a masterpiece.  The glory I see HERE is His.  

Come Thou Fount of every blessing, tune my heart to sing thy grace; Streams of mercy, never ceasing, call for songs of loudest praise.  Teach me some melodious sonnet, sung by flaming tongues above. Praise the mount! I’m fixed upon it, mount of thy redeeming love.

You. Are. Here.  

October 19, 2019.  Yep, here I am.  Rockin’ my routine and working within the cozy confines of my comfort zone. I am not an adventurous person.  I have a deep appreciation for structure and the beauty of things remaining the same. Uniformity. Straight Lines. Symmetry. I’ve got everything lined up in perfect rows just like I like it.  When everything is as it should be, I can breathe and function almost like a normal person. Almost.

I’ll admit, though, that what’s happening right now is different than I had planned.  But I know I just need to tough it out and work through it.  Although…yeah, there are these bothersome doubts that keep trying to crash through my answer to take care of what is going on. Go away. I got this.

Hello…  Bothersome Doubts here.  Please listen to us!  What if this isn’t a virus?  What if something is really wrong?  What if this pain is, in fact, as bad as it feels instead of not so bad for someone who is not so wimpy?  What if by waiting, you are compromising your health?   

Those doubtful thoughts about what was happening on this day kept trying, but I stood firm on my perch atop the empty air and would not give in.  The doubts kept interrupting my monologue with myself.  They whispered.  Then they talked.  And then they shouted extreme and frightful ideas, like this:      

What if…

“You. Are. Here.” is a lie, and reality is way over HERE?

On Sunday October 20th, I had emergency surgery at 3:30am.  Me, who has never had major surgery before. 

I learned much from this unplanned unwelcomed medical adventure. 

I learned who I really was when all my hard won schemes were stripped away and my walls fell down and landed in disheveled heaps of rubble.  I stood looking through the haze at the previously hidden horizon.  It was shocking and overwhelming.      

I learned about being HERE. HERE is new and different and foreign.  It’s full of wide open unidentifiable spaces when I love small and cozy and safe.  But during this journey, it’s where I needed to be to learn from the harsh reality that had invaded my mundane daily life.  HERE is where I fully experienced the futility of elaborate measures taken to control my minute corner of the world.

I learned that I have trust issues.  Big ones.  

Issues with trusting myself.  I see so clearly now that I did not trust my reaction to extreme pain enough to call for help.  There was a level of terror there, but I just kept talking it down in my head so that I was able to keep the lies monologue on replay that said I could do this on my own and everything would be fine. 

Issues with trusting God.  For so long, I have lived afraid of being afraid. Afraid of being all in for anything.  Afraid and trying my best to fix my life so that all I experience is level and smooth with no sharp turns or jagged edges or messiness.  But on this path I did not choose, I learned that my mess is where God will remind me who I am in Him and who He is.  And though we all have those times when life does not make any sense at all, I learned that if I will just stop all this nonsense trying to fix up what needs to be completely replaced, I can rest in the assurance that He has a plan and a purpose for everything, especially those tough times that don’t have easily formulated answers.  Tough times like HERE, this new place that began with emergency major invasive surgery.   

Looking back on those hours that I kept refusing to call 911, I learned that sometimes pain can be so severe that you lose the ability to think logically.  Your brain has stepped down.  Your entire human body system becomes hyper focused on the pain.  You don’t realize reality.  In an effort to handle the pain, I found myself crying and moaning and yelling and praying and curling up into the fetal position.  Huge red flags everywhere that this was much more than the average stomach pain from a virus. 

I’m so grateful to God that He chose to send me a lightning bolt. BAM!  It jolted everything everywhere in my world.  In the stillness came a moment of clarity that brought my speeding monologue of lies to a violent and full stop. A moment when I saw reality illuminated in a way that I could no longer deny.  It was then that I finally called for help.  I look back on this and it’s sobering to realize the full impact of what could have happened.  I was in a serious situation that could have become a critical situation and compromised my health.  I was alone if you don’t count my beloved cat, who did nothing but stare at me.  I don’t blame him.  I was acting like a crazy woman.       

I learned that in a situation like this there are many variables that determine the outcome.  There were complications after the surgery.  Very scary stuff for me with no medical knowledge and no health issues until this.  Complications that if not addressed quickly could have had my story ending very differently. But God. Period.

I also ponder the possibility that I could have died.  Along with that, I know I could have ended up living with the results of a variety of after surgery complications that would have made a tough situation tougher and perhaps negatively impacted my quality of life.   

My quality of life.  It’s very different now, in a good way.  It is new and beautiful and so sweet. 

HERE, I learned the vast difference between knowing and KNOWING.  Before this happened, if asked, I would have said, “Of course I know my Savior loves me!” A knee jerk, right-answer-for-a-Christian answer. But now, I see so clearly that no, I didn’t really know this.  I didn’t really know this at all.

Now I KNOW.  He loves me enough that He orchestrated different situations in my story so that I would finally be able to see, really see, all that I have access to in my relationship with Him.  I am so humbled, and so in awe of what He has shown me, and I never want to stop nurturing this whole new perspective.  I want to embrace it, and embody it, and let others know that this newfound amazement at all He is…is real.  REAL. 

HERE is where I belong.  A new home for me.  I want to start a new journey.  One where I begin to learn to appreciate the wide open spaces and embrace the unknowns with this newfound confidence that I am never alone, and I am so loved.  Always.  Whether I feel it or not.

He has given me beautiful new shapes instead of my perfectly aligned rows. I am His tapestry, brilliant, beautifully designed, a masterpiece.  The glory I see HERE is His.  

Come Thou Fount of every blessing, tune my heart to sing thy grace; Streams of mercy, never ceasing, call for songs of loudest praise.  Teach me some melodious sonnet, sung by flaming tongues above. Praise the mount! I’m fixed upon it, mount of thy redeeming love.

(Excerpt from Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing, Robert Robinson, 1757).

Published by laurismith88

I have always enjoyed writing. Seeing my heart on a page helps me learn about God, about life, and about me. God has called me to take this passion to the next level by sharing it. My hope is that as you read what God has laid on my heart to share, you will be positively impacted.

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