Unchanged

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About a week ago, Jaime published a post entitled Never Give In. He was excited for me because I’d just accomplished my goal of running two miles in 25 minutes.  He called me resilient.  He called me tenacious. High praise, indeed.

A week out I’m feeling anything but resilient and tenacious.  I guess you could say I’ve been knocked down. I had a routine pulmonary appointment several days ago and I was hoping to see my FEV1 rise up.  It had fallen to 32 during a severe, extended illness this past winter, but was coming back up and had landed at 42 at my appointment two months ago.  I have learned to moderate my expectations because my FEV1 scores don’t move easily, not in the right direction, anyway. The running goals I set were part of my endeavor to regain lung function as I continued to heal from the illnesses of this past winter. I wasn’t expecting a giant gain but was hoping for a few positive points to show me I’d been successful.

I ended up getting 42 again. My score was unchanged. There was zero improvement. At first I talked myself into feeling okay about it. I know the number is less important than how I’m feeling, and I’ve been healthy and strong this summer. But sure enough, as the hours passed, discouragement settled in.  I worked hard. Really hard. I wanted a better score.

My doctor was surprised that I hadn’t made any gains as well, especially since everything else during the exam looked great. He decided to order an echocardiogram to see how my heart is doing. Because of how well I am functioning, he didn’t expect to see anything concerning. A positive result would confirm our suspicion that I’m healthier than my FEV1 would indicate. I thought for certain things would look good.

But we were both wrong. Although my heart muscle is performing well, the pulmonary artery which supplies blood to the lungs was under greater pressure than either of us expected. This indicates that my heart is working extra hard to push blood through the arteries in my lungs, most likely because those arteries have narrowed or are blocked in some way. This negative report was incredibly disappointing. Knocked down.

I gave my treadmill a long, hard stare before I got on it the other day. There was a large part of me that wished to wallow in self-pity, take a few weeks off, cry some crocodile tears over the fact that my efforts didn’t pay off in the way I wanted them to. But that would be giving in. My heart definitely wasn’t in it, but I mounted the beast and banged out those two miles. I did it again two days later. I have to do what I can. I have to try.

I feel insecure right now. A FEV1 score at the lower end of the moderate obstructive range…a pulmonary artery under too much pressure. These are not comforting thoughts. These test results aren’t written in stone…it is still possible for my lung function to rise and the pressure in the pulmonary artery to subside. But there is nothing additional that I can do to facilitate these changes.

With that in mind, I must return to the true source of my hope. It is not in myself or my efforts. It is not in my doctor’s expertise. It is not in my therapies, my treatments, or in my ability to avoid germs. It is the hope I have that my life is held in the loving hands of my Savior, and that He has a purpose and a plan for me.

Several verses surfaced in my mind after I got that disappointing call from my doctor.  One was 2 Chronicles 16:9 which says:

The eyes of the Lord run to and fro across the whole earth to show himself strong on behalf of those whose heart is loyal to Him.

Another was from 2 Timothy 1 (verse 7):

For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power, and of love and of a sound mind.

Another was Isaiah 54:10-11:

For the mountains shall depart, and the hills be removed; but my kindness shall not depart from you, neither shall the covenant of my peace be removed, says the Lord who has mercy on you. Oh you afflicted one, tossed with tempest, and not comforted, behold, I will lay your stones with fair colors, and lay your foundations with sapphires.

Sapphires always remind me of my sister Sheri.  She was born and died in the month of September. The sapphire was her birth stone–both the start of her life on earth and the start of her new life in heaven. Her existence was marked by struggle but she never shrank back from the challenges that came her way. The result was a life and legacy full of meaning and beauty. A sapphire is a fitting stone for her. Along with their stunning beauty, sapphires are incredibly strong. The only stone harder than a sapphire is a diamond which the hardest mineral on earth.

It’s helpful to have Sheri’s example when I hit these bumps in the road. She was sapphire-strong because she accepted the strength God gave her and I, too, can take hold of that strength. I can claim it as my own even when I feel angry and defeated–even on the days when I’d like nothing better than to throw in the towel and let someone else be resilient and tenacious. I can hold fast to my faith and to the promises in God’s word–promises of peace, comfort, kindness, and love. He has shown himself strong on my behalf over and over. I don’t know what the future holds and whether God will restore health to my heart and my lungs. They may remain unchanged. But the promises of God are unwavering and ever-present.

They, too, are unchanged.