I want to give up. I want to cancel all doctor appointments and my surgery. This burden is too big for me to carry. I’ve given it to the Lord but it doesn’t yet FEEL like He has it. I believe He has everything under control, so why do I FEEL so anxious anyway?
The gastroenterologist wants me to get an upper GI sonogram. This test is easy and noninvasive. But he also wants to do an endoscopy — you know that procedure where the doctor knocks you out and then sticks a ginormous camera down your throat? I’ve been there, done that, and NEVER want to do it again. But I have to, if I believe that God is covering all my bases. One week from today. Ugh.
I might as well admit that I am not the picture of “Everfaith” at the moment. I am the picture of a nervous breakdown — tears, red nose, bloodshot eyes, shaky hands, panic attack. I am my own worst enemy. Why don’t I want an endoscopy? Because that’s yet another procedure where I might experience nausea afterwards….and I avoid nausea-potential circumstances whenever possible. Plus the thought of something nonfood going down into my innards gives me the heebie jeebies. Seriously, I am more afraid of an endoscopy (that I have had) than I am of the hysterectomy (that I have not had). The endoscopy took twice the usual amount of sedation to get me to relax enough…and my neck muscles had a massive spasm for a week beforehand…and I was knocked out for an entire day afterwards due to the amount of dope they had to use to get me malleable. This time they want to just knock me out with general anesthesia. You know the stuff that killed Michael Jackson? That stuff.
Yes, I realize that it is not logical to be more afraid of endoscopy than of hysterectomy, aside from the whole Michael Jackson thing. But it is what it is.
So I am tempted to just call everything off. Live with the pain. Or die. Lest I feel too guilty for wishing God would just strike me down as I write, I remember heroes of the Bible who also were so distraught that they, too, just wanted to give up. Elijah, terrified of Ahab and Jezebel, took off running for his life:
3 Elijah was afraid and fled for his life. He went to Beersheba, a town in Judah, and he left his servant there. 4 Then he went on alone into the wilderness, traveling all day. He sat down under a solitary broom tree and prayed that he might die. “I have had enough, Lord,” he said. “Take my life, for I am no better than my ancestors who have already died.”
Like Elijah, I want to run to the wilderness and sit down under a tree and pray that I might die. I have had enough. But there is no wilderness to run to, unless you count my back yard. Elijah was special to God, though…so special that the Lord sent angels to minister to him during this tough time.
5 Then he lay down and slept under the broom tree. But as he was sleeping, an angel touched him and told him, “Get up and eat!” 6 He looked around and there beside his head was some bread baked on hot stones and a jar of water! So he ate and drank and lay down again.
7 Then the angel of the Lord came again and touched him and said, “Get up and eat some more, or the journey ahead will be too much for you.”
Then Elijah ate…and got back up and kept walking. I am no Elijah. I am not worthy of angels ministering to me. But I have had enough. The rubber band has snapped. GI issues. Blood clotting issues. Hormonal issues. Fibromyalgia. Adenomyosis. I.Have.Had.Enough.
So this afternoon I am checking out for awhile. Heading to the “broom tree” to sit and pray. Not for death, but for courage that comes from outside of myself as well as an angel or some Word that will give me strength for the journey ahead.