I’ve walked an unexpected journey since coming home from the Race.
It’s name is Wolff Parkinson’s White.
I was told this part of my journey was complete, but today I find myself right back in the middle of it.
About a month after returning home from the Race, I began to experience some chest pain, that I immediately chalked up to anxiety and worry over this new transitional season of my life. After a couple of weeks, the episodes of chest pain and rapid heart rates seemed to increase rather than subside, so I decided it was time to seek some medical attention for my anxiety. The day started with me going into a doctor office to receive what I thought would be a diagnosis of mild anxiety and a treatment plan for how to manage it, but it ended with me being admitted into the hospital for five days because of a very abnormal EKG result. During this time, after lots of testing, I was found to have a rare heart condition called Wolff Parkinson’s White Syndrome, that put me at some risk for sudden cardiac death. I was scheduled for a surgery just two weeks later that I was told would completely rid me of this heart condition forever. During these two weeks, I landed myself back in the hospital five times, where they had to monitor my cardiac episodes to make sure I was safe to go back home again. Finally the procedure was completed, and after a couple of weeks of recovery, I began to feel like my old self again. About six weeks after my surgery I had a follow up visit with my cardiologist, who gave me the all clear, and said he thought all my problems and any chance of a reoccurrence were gone. For the next couple of months, I could feel my heart regaining strength and I began to test out things that I had to cut out of my life because of my heart condition. I started running and exercising again. I began to drink coffee again, which for those of you who know me well, know that was really good for my soul!
Right around Christmastime, I began to feel some of those old symptoms creeping back up and have found myself in the E.R. three more times since then. I was referred to a new cardiologist here in Knoxville, and after some careful study of my heart, I was told,yesterday, that I will be having another heart surgery next week. He has told me that he plans to perform the same procedure, but in a slightly more aggressive way. This leads to potentially more risks and complications, but the end result, if all goes as planned, will hopefully fix the problem with my heart for good.
This has been my journey with WPW. It’s not quite over yet. Today, I am just beginning to digest the news of having another surgery.
I’ve promised to always try to real with you on this blog so I’ve got a few confessions.
I’m scared.
I’ve cried a lot the last 24 hours and I am probably not through crying.
And though I have a great support system in all of this, I feel really alone.
And this is really the first time I’ve let myself admit any of this to anyone.
I feel this need to protect the people around me, the people I love. I don’t want them to know these things. I don’t want them to worry. So more often than not, I try to downplay most of what’s happening, so they don’t know I’m worried, so they don’t have to worry.
Truth is: I am worried. I am scared. I am not nearly as brave as I want you to think that I am. The reason, I’m realizing, that I feel alone is because I feel all of these things, and I am am carrying the weight of them alone, because I refuse to admit them to the people who care about me the most. I feel the need to carry the burden of these feelings alone, and to lighten the burden of worry that my heart condition has put on to others. I feel as if it is my responsibility because it is my heart condition that has them worried in the first place. So I shoulder my burdens of fear and worry and the I try to take away everyone else’s fear, worry, and concern and add it to my collection. When people are worried, I feel guilty that I am sick. And I suppress that and shoulder it too. Somewhere in my twisted little mind, I feel like clinging to all of this is what is keeping me alive. I feel like if I let go even for a second, that I may die on the surgical table, like somehow I think I am in control of life or death or something.
So today I find myself before the Lord with my big ol ton of junk, realizing that for months I have tried to control this situation. I want to be in control.
My heart problem is so out of my control, that I think I just needed to feel like I had a handle on something in my life.
This morning, I find myself with all of this junk I have tried to carry alone. I have refused to drop it, lest someone try to pick it up. And I find myself picking up stuff that doesn’t even belong to me, because for some reason, I feel that it is my responsibility.
And worse, I am clinging to it too tightly that I won’t even let my Father carry it for me.
I refuse to let go, even when He is asking to carry it all, again and again.
And today I am broken. I am mad. I am furious that this still isn’t over. I’m mad that I have to have another surgery. I’m tired from carrying this all around. I feel like a failure because I’m too tired to carry it around anymore. And I’m embarrassed to show up in front of the Lord as a failure. It hurts my pride to admit this.
And I’m realizing, today, how much this has affected my relationship with my Papa. I’m going through the motions, reading the Bible all the days, going to church. But my heart isn’t in it. And if my heart isn’t in it, than what even is the point?
I’ve been so caught up “fixing” my relationship with the Lord, that I couldn’t even recognize that this was just one more aspect of my life that I was trying to control. I’ve made a to-do list of things I have to do to make my relationship with Him better. Read the Bible everyday. Go to church. Listen to worship music. And I’ve been doing all of these things, because I decided it is what I needed to do to make my relationship better. It’s just one more thing on a long list of things that I have tried to control, because I would rather fix it myself than come before Him, lest He see all my junk I’ve been lugging around and see what a failure I’ve become.
But here’s the thing I’m realizing today, there is a place in the Kingdom that my intellectual faith will not carry me. And that is why I’m missing it, that’s why my heart isn’t in it. Because I will not allow myself access to the parts of the Kingdom that are already given to me as a Daughter. There are parts of the Kingdom I am allowing myself to miss by trying to carry around all of this baggage with me, by myself. Micromanaging my faith and my life is not helping me, in fact it is hindering me from the access that I already have to my Dad. What I’m realizing is that even in my embarrassment and failure, I still have access to my Papa. And through this journey that I have been on to protect myself from failure, I have actually protected myself from Jesus.
As I have spent the morning processing through this, the Lord reminded me of the story in the Bible of Peter walking on water. And you have to wonder what when through Peter’s mind when Jesus called him. “Come.” And I can’t imagine that there weren’t at least a few seconds of hesitation for Peter, as maybe he thought about the risks or looking like a fool in all of his friends. Come play, Peter. The water is nice. And he went. And we all know, he did indeed end up looking like a fool. But even in his foolishness, despite his mistakes and inherent distrust, Peter got to walk with Jesus. He got to experience a piece of Jesus, a piece of the Kingdom, that the other disciples didn’t. The last verse of the passage said “and those in the boat worshiped Him” and the thing is, Jesus still got glory from that, from the safety of the boat. Just as I believe in my feeble attempt to worship the Lord from the safety of my control still brought honor to the Him. So I guess what the Father was revealing me this morning is that we can worship Jesus from safety or we can worship Him from outside the boat and both honor God, but we weren’t made for both. There is a friendship with Jesus, a part of the Kingdom, that is only available when I participate, when I stop letting fear dictate my life, when I stop trying to control my circumstances, when I stop carrying around burdens that I don’t have to.
So I guess what I am trying to say is that I am tired. So incredibly, freakin’ tired of carrying around of this stuff, these feelings, this sickness, my life, alone. I am tired of clinging so tightly to the side of the boat, my safety net, my life, by trying to control my circumstances. I am ready to let go of some stuff. To admit to myself and the Lord and to the people around me that I am not nearly brave enough and that I am scared of what is going to happen in the next couple of weeks. And even if I look foolish before the Lord and all my friends, I will get to walk unhindered, unburdened next to the One who has already promised to carry it all for me, to never leave me alone.
That being said, it’s is high time for me to swallow my pride, and ask for help. I need prayer. I need prayer for the next week that I can rest in the steadfast love of the Father and continually relinquish control over to Him. I need prayer that I can accept the help and love that comes with friendships and relationships, and not feel guilty and burdensome, or try to push people away. And lastly, if on February 5th, at 8:30 am, you could keep me in your prayers as I undergo what is hopefully my last procedure and for my surgical team, for wisdom and discernment to correct my heart condition.
Thank you for your prayers and the parts you all have played in my life and my journey. I love you all.
