As I celebrate my son’s fifteenth birthday this week, I am reminded of what a fabulous surprise it was when we found out we were pregnant.  Shortly after that wonderful news came the discovery of my husband’s rare brain condition and the scheduling of his first brain surgery.

We were grateful the first surgery was a success, and a few months later my son was born on Easter morning.   It was a miracle to have both my husband and my son healthy on that beautiful holiday that we celebrate new birth.  I truly felt God had chosen that day as a reminder that there is no limit to what He can do!

The second surgery happened a year later, and although it was a success, it had more of an impact on my husband.  My husband had a shunt put in, and we were told that someday it would have to be replaced, which would require yet another surgery.

And now, sixteen years later, I find myself celebrating my son’s birthday, Easter morning, and the approaching third brain surgery all within a week.  It is an irony I sense is by His hand.

I admit that I am nervous, even though the doctors have assured our family that there is no reason to think this third surgery will cause any harm to him.  In our life’s up and downs, through the years of celebration and sadness, I have discovered three things that bring me peace. Ironically, they were there all along, I just didn’t recognize them at first:

1. Recognizing My Life Altar

It is common to hear Christians push the importance of thankfulness, which I do agree with.  However, I think the concept of documenting what we are thankful for serves a much deeper purpose beyond a mere spiritual assignment.  In the Old Testament, it was common for people to build an altar to remember something incredible that God accomplished.

I began to realize, perhaps I could create my own “altar” but what would be included in the list of things that God has done for me?

I sat down and I drew a box.  The box was blank. I decided to write anything in the box that I currently possess that I value, even simple things that I use every day.  As I wrote, I ran out of room– not just my most precious blessings, but even simple things that make my daily life possible.

As I stopped and reviewed my box, I realized that this box of overflowing words was proof that I am not an orphan.  I have been adopted by a loving God who has made Himself evident in ways that I have overlooked.

All along, He had made Himself known to me through various ways He has provided for me.  I just somehow missed it. As an adopted daughter, I know that He continues to prove again and again how He loves me.

2. Recognizing the Lies

The Bible says to “take every thought captive” (II Corinthians 10:5).  It occurred to me how aggressive that terminology is. I began wrestling my thoughts down and having a look at them.  I was surprised to find how many of them were lies: self-abusive thoughts, assumptions, thoughts that were in direct contradiction to my beliefs.

I wrote the most prevalent thoughts down and looked at them- they were common to me.  I saw them often, sometimes daily. At that moment, I realized how difficult it was to find peace with these thoughts fluttering around in my head.

I wrote them down in one column, and in the other wrote corresponding passages from the Bible that proved them to be false.  Each verse felt like an ointment healing a wound. Each verse was my anchor that I was staking my mental health on.

As we face a third surgery, my mind releases reoccurring thoughts regarding the uncertainty of my future and how unfortunate it likely will be, I wrestle them down and pull out truth to combat them.  It is amazing how different I feel after I have taken them captive.

3. Recognizing My Partner

Jesus has experienced anxiety beyond any that I have or ever will.  In the garden the night before he was tortured and killed, He was so anxious and afraid that He began to sweat blood.  He asked His Father to change the future and have His suffering taken away from Him. As He processed the intense emotions of that night, Jesus concluded that He would follow His Father, knowing the painful cost served a greater purpose.

Jesus literally experiences my pain with me.  He knows the fear I am living in and what it is to experience dreading the future.  He is not ignorant or unempathetic to the pain that comes from life. I have days where I don’t even know what to say, but Jesus already understands my pain.  The Holy Spirit speaks to the Father on my behalf. I am grateful for that deep, wordless connection.

I believe that the pain of my life serves a greater purpose, something far beyond me.  It helps me to cope with uncertainty in my life when I stop and take note of all the people who are impacted by the challenges I face.  Even if I don’t see it right away, I know that each event in my life has meaning. In the meantime, thank goodness I have a companion who understands what it feels like to be anxious and afraid.

I don’t know what you are experiencing in your life. I am praying for you, that you find hope and peace.    

I can assume you that if you have Jesus as your Savior and Guide, you do not walk this world alone.  You have a partner who fully understands you. I am praying for you: build your altar, take captive your thoughts and sit with Him.  You don’t have to say a word, He already knows.

As we drive to Mayo Clinic on Monday, those are the three things I hold to, all the way to our upcoming Easter morning.

Peace to you. And requesting your prayers

Jenita