I have been waiting for this day for almost eight years now – the day all my pain and illness would get a name. Well, that day came, and to my surprise, it didn’t feel near like I thought it would.
Today, I found out I have Lyme Disease.
Those words, this name, doesn’t quite hold the magical power that I once thought it would. I have clung to the fact that a name would give me instant peace in my circumstance, instant validation of the pain, and instant release from the unanswered questions. In my mind, that day would be filled with me skipping out of the doctor’s office, arms thrown up in elation, and celebrating with a Name Party! (You would have been invited, of course.)
Yet, today my heart is filled with something entirely different.
I’m fumbling around in-between shock and collapse. I feel nauseous and as though my insides are shaking uncontrollably. The peace I was hoping that came attached to a name has eluded me, and I sit trembling. How could I have gotten this so wrong? I just knew having a name for my core illness would solve everything, so why hasn’t it?
It’s the day before Thanksgiving and this is a tough blow. I am, indeed, thankful for the answers, the wonderful doctor who has walked with me though this squall, and a husband who has held my hand the whole time. Yet, I’m having a hard time letting it all soak in. I am an expert, after all, at building walls no one can get through, not even myself. So here I sit, the day before Thanksgiving, trying to stay too busy to shed one tear in my acceptance. This isn’t how it was supposed to go… A name was supposed to fix everything.
But, you know what? It had already. I was just looking at the wrong name.
See, it didn’t take too long after that doctor said those words to me, that God started working on my heart. I soon realized, I was clinging and putting my hope into the wrong name. No name, no diagnosis, was going to heal my heart and give me the peace I so desperately longed for in this lengthy journey, except one.
God so graciously showed me today that this was one area I still needed work on. See, God has already given me more names for my brokenness than I could ever count. For, He is my Mighty Comforter, Prince of Peace, Healer, and Provider. He is my Strong Tower, my Shepherd, Messiah and Redeemer. He is my own personal Physician that not only wants to heal my soul, but my wounded heart and my struggling mind.
You see, I realized that putting a name to my illness held no power at all. All I needed, this whole time, was to put a name to my heart’s cry for peace. Only the name of Jesus can bring me the peace I so desperately craved in the middle of this storm called life. We all have real fears, and pain and struggles that only one name can solve. Jesus.
Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome.
Small Intestine Bacterial Overgrowth.
Jesus. The name above all names. And that is the only name I will ever need.