“Middle Age – that time in your life when you finally get your head together, and then your body starts falling apart!” Well, I don’t know about you, but as I get closer and closer to knocking on the door of 60 years of age, I’m pretty sure I still don’t have my head together! But, I can, with certainty, identify with the end of this quote. Let me explain.
Before 2015, my life looked quite a bit different than what it looks like now. I was a lean, mean bodybuilding machine. I was a personal trainer and a swimming coach. I participated in triathlons and Master swim meets. I even had this crazy idea to run in the local Forest Park Frostbite series, which consisted of 5 runs, all different distances. And yep, you guessed it, all the runs took place in the cold wintery months of St. Louis. No matter sleet, snow, or blizzard, the races were on. I’ve always hated running, but after being prodded and pressured by fellow swim buddies, I decided to take on the challenge. I participated in the Frostbite runs two years in a row, and to my shock, I placed third in my age group during my second year of participation. The adrenaline rush of exercising and competing can be exhilarating, but little did I know that the bottom would soon give way.
In January 2015, I turned 50 years of age. Wow! 50 years! Count them . . . that’s five decades old, or half a century! I certainly had a hard time wrapping my brain around that number, but I didn’t let that age define who I was. I continued my usual activities until August of that same year. One morning, I woke up as usual with a full day ahead. Within an hour or two of my first two cups of coffee, I quickly experienced the most paralyzing fatigue. This depleted state left me passed out on our couch. I felt like I had run the Boston Marathon. This unexplainable scenario of total exhaustion lasted almost two weeks until my husband finally convinced me to see a doctor. The verdict was announced after a medical visit and blood work. I tested positive for Rheumatoid Arthritis. It was a challenging diagnosis to accept because, up until that point, I had not experienced any significant joint pain, but eventually, that would all change.
About 6-9 months before the RA diagnosis, I began to gain weight. Little by little, the scale rose, and my clothes fit tighter and tighter. I was utterly baffled. I knew menopause was not a player as I had a hysterectomy many years prior. I was swimming, running, biking, lifting weights, and eating a balanced diet, but still, the weight gain continued. I saw doctor after doctor after doctor, often left with nothing but tears and frustration. I was accused of lying, cheating, and not facing the “reality” of my weight problem. Devastated by the accusations, I decided to take things into my own hands . . . because that’s just me! I’m a doer, achiever, and woman of action! I’m an “A” personality inside and out. I began to work out twice a day. I exercised seven days a week instead of five days a week and lowered my daily calorie count to a dangerously low level. Still, my weight continued to rise slowly. Once I received the diagnosis of rheumatoid arthritis, I resigned myself to the weight gain and decided I needed to care for my joints and stop abusing my body. Confused about all that was going on, I fervently asked God to reveal the root of my weight problem. In 2020, five years after the start of the weight gain, I was contacted via FB Messenger by a dear friend of mine. She had learned of my struggles and sensed a familiarity with my weight problem. As only my Lord could do, He provided answers through my friend. After sending me an immense amount of information, I soon learned about a little-known condition called Lipedema. Lipedema is a chronic loose connective tissue disease resulting in impaired fatty tissue growth in a symmetrical pattern. It is more common in women than men. There is no cure, but various treatments include compression, manual lymph drainage, and specialized liposuction procedures. Thankfully, I have accessed all of these treatments, but there are still more sessions ahead of me.
Probably the most significant health crisis I have experienced since turning 50 years of age is related to my back. Before 2017, I had never experienced problems with my back. I had always felt sorry for people I knew who had issues with back pain. Some of those people’s back pain reminded me of the “thorn in the flesh” that the Apostle Paul prayed for Jesus to heal. Little did I know that I, too, would be joining this unfortunate club. In the early summer of 2017, I was helping my husband carry a toilet from our bathroom to our back porch. We needed to remove the toilet from the bathroom because we were installing new flooring. As I carefully picked up the bulky piece of porcelain, I walked backward out of our back door and onto our back deck. Without warning, I miscalculated the area around me, stepped off the porch, and fell backward about 5-6 feet onto the concrete porch below. I landed flat on my lower back. As I lay there in shock, I felt nothing. No pain, no nothing! Paul was immediately alarmed and told me he would call 911. In a matter of moments, I began to experience a growing pain. A horrible pain. I told him not to call emergency services until I could see if I could stand and walk. After a little time, I sat up and began to stand. As you can imagine, I was shaken up. My mind kept replaying the scene repeatedly in slow motion. Hindsight being 20/20, I most probably should have gone to urgent care or the emergency room, but I didn’t. At that moment, I felt blessed that I could stand and walk, and that was good enough for me. For several weeks following the accident, I lived life with a sore and badly bruised lower back. As the weeks passed, my back seemed to improve little by little. Jumping ahead about four months, I woke up early one morning to use the restroom. As I put my feet on the floor and stood up, I experienced the most intense, agonizing pain traveling from my lower back down my leg. The pain was so incredible that I could not walk. As I cried out in pain, my husband awakened and immediately tried to help me. As he jumped out of bed and tried to help me, I cried out in more pain when he touched me. I pleaded with him to leave me alone, and I literally crawled to the bathroom. After a trip to the doctor, numerous weeks of physical therapy, and an array of radiological imaging, it was determined that I had damaged my two lowest lumbar vertebrae and discs. In addition, it was also discovered that I was, unbeknownst to me, dealing with arthritis of the spine. My neurosurgeon later told me that the fall from the porch was probably just a catalyst to the real problem – arthritis. Before considering surgery, I decided to see a chiropractor for a while. After weeks and weeks of chiropractic care, my spine’s damage only worsened. Unable to withstand the pain any longer, I decided that surgical intervention was needed. In November 2017, I had my first lumbar spine surgery. Overall, the procedure was a success, but since my first surgery, I have gone on to experience three subsequent spine surgeries resulting in a total bone fusion between my L2-L5 vertebrates.
The convergence of disease and injury had turned my life upside down and all around. None of it made any sense, but thankfully, things seemed to calm down for a while. I continued to exercise, but I had to learn to adjust what I was doing. I had been doing well on a new rheumatoid arthritis medication and the insurance-approved liposuction treatments that had encouraged me. Despite all the health issues I had experienced during the first half of my fifth decade, God had been good. He provided for me and cared for me like a Father does.
If I had to be transparent, the last six months have been some of the most challenging months of my life. In April of this year, I was awakened by an awful burning pain running down my back, through my right hip, into my lateral thigh. As quietly as I could, I grabbed my pillow and went downstairs. My heart pounded so hard as the searing pain shot down my thigh. As I sat on our couch crying into my pillow, I began to worry about what was happening. Panic set in as I contemplated another spinal surgery. At times, the pain was so intense I thought about taking a trip to the emergency room. This intense suffering went on for nearly two weeks. On a few occasions, the unrelenting pain had caused me to reach for the untouched bottle of narcotics inside my nightstand. Anyone that knows me well knows that I hate narcotics. Even though they make the pain easier to deal with, the nausea side effect is more than enough to keep me away. I would rather white knuckle it than deal with nausea. But this time was different. Not only was I dealing with a newly undiagnosed round of back and leg pain, but I was also struggling with a rheumatoid arthritis flare-up. Every joint in my body was angry. The stiffness, soreness, and swelling were too much to handle. My body and emotions were in shambles. As I sat on the couch, I cried out to God, begging Him for some comfort. “Lord,” I said, “Would it be possible for you to please just touch my body and eliminate this pain? I can’t take this!” As I sat with my eyes closed, I found myself beginning to quietly sing,
♩“Whom have I in heaven but You? And there’s nothing on earth besides You. My heart and my flesh, many times, they’ll fail. But there is one truth that always will prevail. God is the strength of my heart, God is the strength of my heart, God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.” ♫
This older praise and worship song, which I hadn’t heard in years, came bubbling up out of my spirit. The song is based on Psalm 73:25-26. Many of the Psalms were written by David, but this particular Psalm was written by a man named Asaph. Douglas Connelly of The Smart Guide to the Bible series shared this descriptive overview of Asaph:
“Asaph was a very straightforward man. He wasn’t afraid to ask difficult questions at difficult times – questions most of us wrestle with at times but never ask out loud. And Asaph wasn’t afraid to go right to the top. He spoke directly and pointedly with God and then waited impatiently for a response. Asaph’s struggles – and Asaph’s candor – are embodied in his psalms. He was willing to camp out on God’s doorstep, waiting for God’s answer to his tough questions.”
Boy, how I could relate to Asaph’s personality. I found myself in the same position asking the same difficult questions. Yes, Jesus had placed a song in my heart amid my pain and turmoil, but I wanted more. I wanted healing, and I wanted answers. I had so much to do in my life, and I had no time for this stuff. Since re-launching Hole in the Roof Ministries, I knew I needed to help financially supplement our income. In addition to creating faith-based jewelry and art, I wanted to move full steam ahead with my baking business. I had plans, but God seemed to be interrupting my plans. My type “A” go-getter personality was being flipped upside down, and frankly, I was mad! How can I do all these important and honorable things if I cannot hold a paintbrush in my hand and stand long enough to bake a cake? Jesus, if you really loved me like you say you do, why won’t you heal me? I knew He could change the course of my life for the better, but he wasn’t doing that. My emotions were raw, and the inquiries about what God was doing rolled in like a red flag day at the beach.
As I wrestled with God for answers, He finally deposited this familiar story into my heart.
“Jesus came to a village, and a woman called Martha welcomed him to her house. She had a sister by the name of Mary who settled down at the Lord’s feet and was listening to what he said. But Martha was very worried about her elaborate preparations and she burst in, saying, “Lord, don’t you mind that my sister has left me to do everything by myself? Tell her to get up and help me!” But the Lord answered her, “Martha, my dear, you are worried and bothered about providing so many things. Only a few things are really needed, perhaps only one. Mary has chosen the best part, and you must not tear it away from her!” Luke 10:38-42
I immediately recognized what Jesus was speaking to me. You see, I was playing the role of Martha. I was so busy doing things and controlling things that I had no time to sit at the feet of my Lord and Savior. Don’t get me wrong; I didn’t set out to avoid time with Jesus. But the cares of this life would constantly interrupt and take precedence over Him. As I gave thought to all of this, the question became more clear. Is it possible that the Lord could allow my suffering in order to draw me to Himself? I believe this is the case.
Have you ever been benched? A famous women’s soccer coach said, “There is no better coach than the bench.” Players in sports can be sidelined for a number of reasons – injury, bad sportsmanship, poor performance, or just not listening to the coach. As I mentioned earlier, my sport of choice has always been swimming. I played a little bit of softball and volleyball growing up, but swimming was (and still is) my passion. Frankly, it is hard to get benched in swimming because it is such an individual sport. But, I did give thought to those times when the coach didn’t choose me to participate on a relay team. In the competitive swimming world, I was being benched. How did I handle not being chosen to participate on a relay team? Initially, I was sad and disappointed, but it definitely forced me to take some time to focus on my teammates. The time on the bench challenged me to get my eyes off of myself. In addition, it allowed time for me to discuss with the coach how I might improve.
As I have given thought to all of this, I have realized that God is benching me for a time. Martha was not wrong for wanting to create a wonderful dining experience for Jesus. I believe her heart was in the right place, but Jesus longed for her to spend some time with Him. The same can be said about myself. I never want to become a slothful person, but Jesus is longing to spend some time with me! I have found that when we become so self-consumed and self-sufficient, it is impossible to hear from the Lord and trust Him. Are you experiencing a time of benching in your life? Do you feel that maybe God has abandoned you by sidelining you? I get it, but my encouragement to you is to submit to the Father and listen to His tender voice. Spend time with Him and you will discover His desire is not to harm you. His purpose is not to leave you on the bench indefinitely. He is our Heavenly Father! Rather, He wants to give you a future and a hope!
