// WARNING //
I talk about kidneys, kidney stones, and walking around like a woman in her third trimester, even worse peeing, EW. You’ve been warned!
Ever since the age of 14 I have been able to tell you EXACTLY where my kidneys are located. Particularly the left. You see when I was a freshman in high school I passed a kidney stone that -after investigation- was formed due to a rare positioning of my kidneys. 2 Years, more kidney stones, and a few major surgeries later my kidneys were deemed functional. Passing an occasional stone and suffering from sometimes extreme discomfort and pain in my still malrotated kidneys was something I was told I was going to have to deal with for the rest of my life. I didn’t like it, but I knew how to manage. Frequently crisscrossing legs when sitting longer than an hour, dealing with the pain, holding my lower back like I was in my third trimester, were all things I’d grown incredibly used to over the past 10 years. My friends know that my kidneys are known as my ‘kids’ and when they are acting up or are inflamed I’ll make a comment about how my kids are acting out.
To be totally honest with you I was TERRIFIED to do the race with my kids. TERRIFIED.
You see, after sitting longer than an hour my kidneys start hurting. How on earth was I supposed to sit for hours on end on travel days in less than ideal conditions all while smiling and ignoring the pain in my lower back? I knew this year had been reserved for me since the beginning of time by the Father, so I was ‘excited’ to see Him provide and comfort me in my pain and discomfort for the sake of His name and living this dream He breathed into my heart the day I was conceived.
Little did I know His plan was to HEAL me. Little did I know, I needed heeling. Little did I know that he desired to heal me, that He desired that I ask for more.
MORE HEALING
After our first month of ministry we as a squad gathered in Belgrade for a few days for what the World Race calls debrief. On the last night of debrief we were worshipping as a squad and I felt it. The twinge in my left side. My left hand migrated down to hold my lower back, time to assume the third trimester stance. After drinking some water and messaging my lower back for a while I knew that I was passing a kidney stone and fear started taking over. Not only was I passing a kidney stone in a hostel where I shared a TINY room with three other girls, where the water was turned off at 9pm every night, where my entire squad of 41 people were all located in the same area that I would pace the hallways and meander to the toilet where the water was not running. We had to leave the next morning at the butt crack of dawn to sit in TIGHT quarters for hours on end until we reached our month 2 stop: Romania. All of this plus I hadn’t repacked yet. I HADN’T REPACKED YET. I was not organized. If you know anything about me at all, anything, it’s that not being organized and packed in a timely fashion was almost just as bad as passing a kidney stone in the public eye.
ALMOST
Anyway, to be totally honest I don’t remember a lot about that night but I will tell you what I do remember.
I remember walking back to our hostel.
I remember changing into my PJ shorts and a t-shirt.
I remember looking at my belongings strewn about and counting down the hours (less than 8) until I had to be ready to go and packed for our next country. Ready to walk down the 4 flights of stairs with my packs on my aching back across a busy street and down the next to get to where I had to drop off my bag.
I remember sitting on my bunk being so overwhelmed by the poor timing of having a “sick Hannah” moment.
I remember being embarrassed when some of my sweet friends made their way into our cramped room to sit and pray with me.
I remember dismissing myself to wash my face and wanting to hide out in the bathroom. Wanting to pass this thing alone.
I remember standing by the bathroom door trying to gather courage to walk back to my room hunched over while holding my back.
I remember scurrying off to my room while trying to avoid my 40-something squad mates all packing and gathering their belongings excitedly getting ready for Romania.
I remember taking a deep breath before heading into my room, making a conscious decision to receive love, empathy, and support in one of the most vulnerable moments of my life.
I remember walking in and curling up in a ball on my bed.
I remember hands being placed on my back, my head, and the prayers beginning.
I remember coming in and out of extreme pain, in and out of tears.
I remember the prayers, the songs of worship, the tone in my sweet sisters voices.
I remember being so comfortable in their presence and being so thankful I wasn’t alone.
I remember them, over the hours that they were with me, asking me what number my pain was at, I remember feeling disappointed when I had to respond a high number in truth.
I remember having to dismiss myself many times to have to pee due to all of the water I was drinking, trying to force the stone out. Having to walk back and forth in front of my squad completely mortified.
I remember watching the clock, losing time to pack.
I remember battling feeling guilty that my sweet friends were sacrificing valuable time of sleep to sit and intercede on my behalf.
I remember praying out loud, thanking God for my sisters, for a time where I could rely on them, for being reminded of His presence, for FEELING His presence.
His perfect peace was thick in that tiny room.
I remember joining in their worship when the waves of pain would diminish. Declaring his goodness even when the pain was trying to tell me otherwise.
I remember hearing my sweet sisters lift up prayers on my behalf, asking The Lord for healing over and over.
Then something happened.
“Jesus I thank you for already healing Hannah. I thank you Father that she is whole and new and healed. I thank you that you see her this way. I thank you that this is just a symptom of a fallen and broken world, but that she is whole and healed in You. She is your daughter, and we are so thankful.”
Can I tell you something? That hit me HARD. You see, health struggles are something that I have allowed to ‘defined’ me, something that has heavily influenced my life path, something that I placed identity in. I, for so many years have identified as “Sick Hannah”, when these flare ups happen I allow that identity to creep back in and start speaking lies. I allow those lies to sink in deep and plant doubts in my healed and whole body. When Campbell prayed this I remember weeping and thinking in my head, DUH HANNAH!, DUH.
I am healed, I have been healed, I am a daughter of Christ all because of the sacrifice of Jesus and his life for me, kidney stones, anger, doubt, a conceited heart and more. I am healed, I am made new. Thank you Father!
I remember crying softly in the slump of a wave of pain.
I remember wanting to take advantage of the lack of pain to go pee and to settle in before it returned.
I remember going pee and not experiencing the typical pain. Not at all.
I remember walking back to my room and my back being a little sore – that was it, not having to walk like I was in my third trimester. Shoulders back and not hunched over.
I remember the girls asking me where my pain was at when I returned to the room and responding the lowest number of the night.
I remember them grinning and gathering again to pray for more, more healing and you guys: my pain was gone.
Gone.
I remember praying again with a thankful heart that my body was physically reflecting the healed state that we were declaring, that we are allowed to declare because of Jesus. That Jesus desires for us to want and to ask for!
I remember the girls leaving my room, after many hugs, more hugs, and PRAISE! Time for them to pack in the few hours we had before heading out.
I remember throwing things randomly into my bag, not out of stress or lack of time, but because I was just so overwhelmed at the nights events. A little apprehensive for what the next day would look like.
You see, typically when I pass a kidney stone, I will be sore for days. Even after I pass a kidney stone, I still hurt, it’s a lesser hurt but there is still pain because my body is still recovering from the trauma.
I remember laying in bed that night, my pain level sitting at a zero.
I remember hugging the girls again in the morning sharing that I still was experiencing ZERO pain.
That next day squeezing into different cars, carrying my packs around, and aiding with a teammate suffering extreme carsickness, I forgot about the nights events. I forgot the pain because I wasn’t experiencing any. Not even discomfort. Pain that would have kicked in regardless of passing a kidney stone or not after an hour of sitting was a faint memory, even in our 12ish hour travel day. For the first time in 10 years I was able to sit in a position longer than an hour with out pain. Without having to fidget in my seat trying to find a new position every 20 minutes or so. Without having to assume the third trimester hand on the lower back position.
Here I am, typing this blog out, sitting on my bed in Priština, Kosovo. Having sat over 47 hours in a car or train since that night and can say the last time I not only experienced pain in my kidney or was reminded of where my kids were was that night in Belgrade.
Healed and Whole, not just since that night, but because the day I accepted Jesus and His sacrifice, He deemed me as such. So thankful to have the opportunity to walk in that physically.
