My Comforter

In mid March, I got a headache. I know that doesn’t sound notable, but the headache felt similar to the ones I battled last year. I spent a few weeks ignoring the nagging headache that followed me everyday. I woke up with the headache and went to bed with the headache. Finally, I couldn’t ignore the headache and increasing symptoms anymore. In early April I went to my neurologist and heard the words “recurrence”.

Disappointment doesn’t even begin to define the feelings I felt when I left the doctor’s office. I thought we had closed the door on Idopathic Intracranial Hypertension (IIH) last year.  As I have described before, IIH is a rare condition where a person’s body creates too much spinal cerebral fluid which creates pressure. Increased pressure can cause optic nerves to swell and when the swelling is left untreated it can cause blindness. The condition almost always leaves behind scar tissue and some kind of vision damage. In November, a specialist confirmed my body had  No Evidence of Disease. In fact, I didn’t have any scar tissue or vision damage that the condition often leaves behind. I was so confused at how I could go from having “no evidence of disease” to hearing the word “recurrence” in such a short time.

There were a lot of tears after that appointment. Going back on medications to fight the headaches and protect my vision made me feel like I had done something wrong. Please hear me, I have no problem with medical science. I believe doctors and medicine are in our lives for a reason, and I am so thankful for the advances that have been made to help give us long and healthy lives. However, when I knew that I was healed – the doctors confirmed there was no evidence of disease – taking that medication again felt like we had lost a battle.

In May, we traveled three hours away to the specialist that confirmed there was no evidence of disease in November. This appointment has been scheduled months before. When we left the doctors office in November, he said that he wanted to see me one more time to confirm I was going to be okay. This appointment was supposed to be the appointment that we celebrated the fact that the enemy tried to attack my eyes with a rare condition, but God was bigger. I had dreams of big parties. Big ideas about how to celebrate God’s goodness.

Instead, after several tests and several hours of waiting, the specialist confirmed there is evidence of IIH behind both my eyes. Hearing the condition is now affecting both of my eyes was very surprising. Last year, only one eye was affected and based on symptoms alone, I was shocked to learn the swelling was seen behind both my eyes. In the midst of all of this, the specialist delivered good news, I still have not lost any vision and still do not have any scar tissue from the swelling. The specialist recommended a few treatments, and sent us on our way, with a follow up appointment in a few months.

Friends, it’s hard for me to completely describe my emotions. My heart is broken that we are fighting this battle again. I am still waking up everyday with the same headache I woke up with in March. It hasn’t broke once. I am still working, and managing my house and living life. I’m exhausted and honestly, I am out of words.

This year Amanda Lindsey Cook released a new album called  The Awakening. Every song on this album is fire and has spoke to the deepest parts of my heart. (I have previously wrote about another song on this album here.)

On my worst days, Amanda’s song Comforter has been on repeat. The lyrics are:

Where there are no words,
And even breathing hurts
You’re my comforter,
You’re my comforter

You won’t abandon me,
You’re with me in the deep
And You won’t let me sink,
And You won’t let me sink

This will be my great redemption
While I’ll weep, You’ll set my feet to dancing

Where there are no words,
And even breathing hurts
You’re my comforter,
You’re my comforter

You won’t abandon me,
You’re with me in the deep
And You won’t let me sink,
And You won’t let me sink

This will be my great redemption
While I’ll weep, You’ll set my feet to dancing
Till You and me are the last ones standing
I learn to lean more than understanding

Cause You are always good
You are always good

In the weeks following my appointment, I have been doing a lot of soaking in His presence. I have been allowing Jesus to be my comforter and I am feeling Him in this season like I have never have before. I have told Him I am disappointed, and He didn’t leave. I have told Him that I’m angry, and He has invited me in closer. I have told Him that I’m tired, and He has given me peace. I have told Him that I have no words, and He has given me a new song. In a season that feels physically impossible some days, I am learning to lean more on Him. I am feeling Him take me to places I have never been before. I am meeting Him in new places, because it’s impossible to move forward without Him.

Last week I read Psalm 42:11 in the Passion Translation and I realized it sums up exactly how my heart feels:

So I say to my soul,
“Don’t be discouraged. Don’t be disturbed.
For I know my God will break through for me.”
Then I’ll have plenty of reasons to praise him all over again.
Yes, living before his face is my saving grace!

I am done being disappointed in this diagnosis. I know what the doctors have said, but they aren’t the final report. My God is still a good God in the midst of this diagnosis. I am not sure if you caught this, but I have been diagnosed with a condition that almost always causes some blindness, and yet I have no vision loss. A condition that almost always leaves scars and damage behind, and yet I have no lasting marks. Here’s the thing, my healing hasn’t changed. God hasn’t changed His mind. My healing happened on the cross 2,000 years ago. I don’t have to beg – it’s already mine. I don’t know why my body isn’t in line with that healing, but I know this isn’t how the story ends. I know my God will break through for me. I am still clinging to Psalm 27:13-14 and believing I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living.

So today and every day, until these headaches break, I will praise Him. I am not choosing to praise Him because of what He will give me, but because who He is in the midst of it all. I am choosing to celebrate His goodness as He redeems this season.

Friend, I don’t know what your story looks like. I don’t know what hurt you are carrying around, but I do know this. Jesus doesn’t want to just comfort me. He wants to comfort you too. I encourage you to tell Him all the places you think you’re hiding, I promise He won’t leave. I encourage you to tell Him you are hurting, I promise He will give you peace too. I encourage you to tell Him you have no words, I promise He has a new song for you too. Healing wasn’t just paid for me on the cross 2,000 years ago. It was paid for you too. This isn’t a battle either of us have to fight, it was already won 2,000 years ago.

  1. […] how my heart is feeling. A nonstop headache, a doctor’s report that wasn’t great (My Comforter), stressful days at work, a groundhog living in our backyard that can’t get the memo to […]

    Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: