Lessons I’m Learning While I Undergo a 4 week Doctor-Mandated Silence
Today, I wish to thank my dear friends Victoria Marshall, Christy Stauffer, and Diane Driscoll for faithfully reading these posts each and every day. Without knowing it, you three have kept me accountable to the task of posting each day… Words fail to express just how much this gesture of your love and support means to me.
Many of the halcyon days of summer end with me and my family watching a movie together. Tonight was one of those nights, except that it was just my husband and me enjoying some couple time. After the movie was over, my husband, in typical fashion, watched the credits at the end. As they rolled down the screen, the lively & beautiful soundtrack captivated both of our attention. My fun-loving husband soon was dancing in the middle of the room floor. Then like the scene from a romantic chic flick, he walked over to me–the look of love in his eyes–clasped my hands, and whisked me to my feet. Next thing, we were locked in each other’s arms, dancing and enjoying some tender moments.
As the song ended, I stepped away to go and take my medication. As I started to walk towards the kitchen, I felt as though the Lord had suddenly given me an ‘infusion of renewal and strength.’ One that I desperately needed.
Upon my return from the follow-up ENT visit, I had laid on my bed pondering the reality of life from my speechless corner of the world for another two weeks. I knew deep down that God would once again get me through this ordeal. But practically speaking, I just couldn’t fathom how I’d make it through. After these past two weeks, I know what it’s like to feel invisible because I cannot take part in a conversation. I grasp just how hard it is for my fingers to keep pace with my racing thoughts. And I’m acquainted with the sense of emptiness that comes from not being able to spontaneously say something encouraging to my family. For example, not being able to tell the son we’re blessed with that I’m praying he has a good day at work as he walks out the front door–I must make him wait for me to write it down instead.
As these thoughts swirled around in my mind, I heard the voice of discouragement knocking insistently on the door of my heart. I was so tempted to open and let it in. But I know from personal experience that discouragement is one of the enemy’s cherished tools: he uses it to foster hopelessness, helplessness, dejection, fear, and a host of other negative emotions in our minds. To make us turn inward, entertaining self pity rather than trusting that God is El Roi: He sees, knows, and cares about each and everything that we experience in this fallen world. To make us quickly lose sight of the fact that nothing enters our lives that hasn’t first been filtered though God’s omniscience and unfailing love for us. Although I didn’t give in to self pity, I, nevertheless, went to bed feeling a little low.