Something that I haven’t shared with a lot of people outside of my family is that for the last couple of months, I have been doing a new treatment for my chronic illness.
And genuinely, it terrifies me to share that here because I have thoughts like, “What if this doesn’t work?”, “Can I handle hoping for this to work when so many other things haven’t?”, “How do I define success with my treatment plan?”.
But you know what? The last couple of weeks, I have had some improvement. I’ve been able to go a little longer during the day without my wheelchair. I’ve been able to have a little more energy and even sleep better.
The other day, I was writing in my prayer journal and just telling God how thankful I was for feeling so good physically and emotionally that day.
I told Him how I wanted to bottle that day so I could pull it out in the future and re-live it. And honestly, part of that was coming from a place of fear that other good, better, or “more than I could ever ask or imagine” kind of days would be scarce.
A lot of times with chronic illness, we might have a good day then overextend ourselves and then have a week of bad days as we recover. But as I sat in the aftermath of that good day I wanted so badly to bottle up, I realized something about myself that really shocked me.
I’ve been dancing around the kitchen as I bake cupcakes.
I’ve been singing at the top of my lungs and picking up my guitar again. I’ve been bubbly and unapologetic about the space I take up. I felt like me again. I saw her - the little girl I used to be colliding with the woman I desire to be.
A fearless little girl who somewhere along the way became hidden, small, and pushed to the side as chronic illness, heartache, and brokenness took the stage. The one who stopped dancing, stopped writing music, stopped showing up in confidence. And you guys, I just felt like God was calling back all those parts of me that He designed that are deeper than my chronic illness and disability.
And that good day - I tell you what, the symbolism has become so redeeming for me.
I’m so grateful because I needed the reminder that even in our most difficult moments, God is still working and He is not finished. In the hard, there is good. And even in the hard times, He desires us to be who He created us to be. Not a version of ourselves that stays small and hidden, but the redeemed by Christ version of us that lives and operates in freedom. Freedom from sin, fear, guilt, and shame.
If you’re reading this today and realize that there are parts of you too that have become hidden or small in the wake of your struggle, I genuinely believe that it is safe.
Here in the freedom of Jesus, it is safe for your heart to be known.
Here in the freedom of Jesus, it is safe for that long lost inner child to come out.
Here in the freedom of Jesus, it is safe to be loved.
Here in the freedom of Jesus, it is safe to be who you were created to be.
You are loved.
You are held in the sovereignty of God.
