I sat motionless in the pew, listening to all the testimonies being shared.  I nervously shifted my feet back and forth.  Their stories held me spellbound.  They were stories of strength, of sorrow, of pain and of God’s grace.  I knew I would love to share mine.  I had the words planned in my head, but even the thought of sharing made the tears well in my eyes.

I think to understand this, I should share a little about who I am.

I am a heart on my sleeve kinda gal.  Always have been, always will be.

I cry easily and oh-too-often.  I cry when I’m sad, cry when I’m happy, cry when I’m angry and cry when I’m overwhelmed.

I seem to cry at church, a lot.  Sometimes a hymn will remind me of a loved one who has passed away, a prayer will strike a chord in my heart or a sermon will resonate with me and the tears will flow.  I’m often so overwhelmed with God’s presence that tears flow down my cheeks.

I cry when someone tells me a touching story about their lives.  I cry when I share a piece of my heart with another person.  It fills me with waves of sympathy, empathy or gratitude and these emotions often manifest in the form of tears for me.

I’ll cry during a movie I’ve watched 245 times, at the exact same spot, and will continue to cry for the next 100 times I watch it.  PS I Love You…Beaches…The Notebook…Steel Magnolias…big fat tear fest.

I’ll cry at every video of a Granddaughter singing to her Great-Grandmother, at a 12-year-old girl with an amazing voice getting the golden buzzer on Americas Got Talent and at every single video of military homecomings.

I’ll cry listening to a song.  Sometimes it’s because of the lyrics, sometimes the melody.  Sometimes it’s because of a memory the song brings to the surface.  Music is so powerful – a song can truly bring you right back there.

I’ll cry as soon as I hear or see someone else crying.  After the first sniffle, hear a catch in their voice or after I see the first tear I am done.  It doesn’t matter if I know you, doesn’t matter if I know why you’re crying…I’m just here to silently cry along with you.

And since I’m laying it all on the line…yes, I cried when Dumbledore died.  A more accurate statement would be I was a complete sobbing mess at that part in the book.  And Snape, I cried when he died in the book and in real life.

I’ve always been a crier. When I was a little girl I cried when I watched Winnie the Pooh because Eeyore was so sad.  His sadness made me sad for him.  And I cried.  I cried watching the Muppet Movie when Miss Piggy was mean to Kermit.  She hurt his feelings and his sadness made me sad for him.  And I cried.

For years I’ve been horribly embarrassed and ashamed of my tears.  So many times I’ve prayed “Lord, please let me make it through this without crying”.  It never fails though, the tears always flow.  And in the end, I’m left embarrassed that I couldn’t hold myself together.

Then one day, while reading a blog, it hit me.  Maybe these tears are my ministry.  Maybe these tears are my spiritual gift.  I can weep with those who weep, mourn with those who mourn and comfort those who need it.  Maybe my tears can keep them from feeling foolish for their tears.  When I think of my tears, I’m often reminded of Psalm 126:6 Those who go out weeping, carrying seed to sow, will return with songs of joy, carrying sheaves with them.

I’ve always envied those who could boldy share their testimony without tears running down their face.  And since I’m not that girl, I will share my testimony here.

Testimony

I used to think my testimony was comprised of the beautiful story of love and restoration our marriage holds.  I clung to that testimony for years.  And while I’m certain it has a part in it, I believe my true testimony is different.  My biggest testimony comes from my medical journey.

In the fall of 2011 I went in for a routine laparoscopic hysterectomy.  One of the first cuts the doctor made hit a main artery.  A 9 inch incision, 2 units of blood, 1 unit of plasma and 1 unit of platelets later I woke in ICU.  I had nearly died during the surgery.  And during the surgery the doctor also missed a huge cyst on my left ovary.  Four months later I went in to have that removed.

During that surgery, the same doctor put a clip on my ureter and put a hole in it.  Three days later I had emergency surgery for a kidney that hadn’t drained in days.  They installed a stent, hoping that would help the ureter heal.

Over the next 7 months, I had 8 surgeries to replace the stent.  Each one would get corroded and calcified and cause a kidney infection, which would knock me down.  Finally the doctors at the Cleveland Clinic determined I needed a ureter reconstruction.

In October of 2012 I had a 14 hour surgery to repair my damaged ureter.  While they were operating, they also found I had a partial bowel obstruction from adhesions and that was fixed as well.

The surgery was a success!  But sadly, my kidney had too much damage done to it.  It was no longer functioning at all and was causing more harm than good.  In February of 2013 I had my kidney removed.  It was a routine surgery but unfortunately I had a small stroke during it, awaking to a completely numb face on the left side.

Because of all the prior abdominal surgeries, adhesions were growing rampant in my abdomen.  And we found out I have Adhesion Related Disorder.  I’ve had seven robotic lysis of adhesions, and it’s a surgery I will need for the remainder of my life every year or so.

I found out in March of 2018 that I was born with Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome, a diagnosis that explains so much of my medical journey thus far.  The EDS has caused Intracranial Hypertension (my body produces too much cerebrospinal fluid (CSF) and the pressure within my skull is too high).  The Intracranial Hypertension had also caused stenosis of a vein in my brain, a partially empty sella, hearing loss, the loss of eye sight, memory issues and horrible daily headaches.  And the stenosis of my right transverse sinus also increased my stroke risk (and explains the stroke I had during the 2013 surgery).

EDS also has a laundry list of comorbidities that can go along with it.  Aside from having Intracranial Hypertension, I also have Mast Cell Activation Syndrome, Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome, Adhesion Related Disorder and Cold Urticaria.

In June of 2018 I had a stent placed in my right transverse sinus, hopeful that it would reduce the pressure inside my skull but knowing it was up to my brain to see it as a solution.  It didn’t.  And in October of 2018 I had a Ventriculoperitoneal (VP) Shunt placed in my brain.

But because of having EDS, my body doesn’t heal quite right.  And the incision in my abdomen from my shunt surgery didn’t heal correctly, and it created an incisional hernia.  Not only that, but the hernia also pulled my shunt tubing up out of the right side of my abdomen and had it laying on my liver.  I had surgery to correct the incisional hernia and a shunt revision.

In the winter of 2021 I realized many of my high pressure symptoms had returned.  Through some testing, and a visit with my neurologist, it was determined I needed a new VP Shunt placed.

A week or so later, my Dad got sick and entered the hospital.

I had surgery in March of 2021 to replace my VP Shunt.  The surgery went well, praise Jesus!  But a week later I began to feel extremely sick.  It seemed to get worse each day.  It took me weeks to convince an ER doctor to do a bedside spinal tap.  As I was afraid of, I had meningitis.  I was transferred back to the hospital where my shunt surgery had been.  I had three days of some heavy IV antibiotics and was released.  Before being released, a CT scan was done.  And they saw all of my abdominal shunt tubing was out of my abdominal cavity and sitting below my skin.  Surgery to fix that was scheduled for a month later.

This was the same time my Dad entered a nursing home.  At least now we would be able to go visit with him.  Because of the hospitals Covid protocol, only my Mom could visit him there.  My kids, my husband and I got to spend some precious time with him.  Time we will always treasure!

My Dad was placed on hospice care the Friday before my scheduled abdominal surgery.  He went home with Jesus two days later.  I somehow was able to call on a Sunday, get the right person at the hospital, cancel my surgery for the following day, and get it rescheduled for the following week.  Another God moment!  Since then, I’ve had two more surgeries.  I believe we are at a total of 28 since 2011.

To say those months were hard, and scary, and taxing is putting it mildly.

But, God.

And as I’ve said numerous times, God has me on this journey for a reason that is precious and perfect. And while I may not know His reason, I will praise Him in the midst.

Throughout this entire journey I’ve been reminded time and time again of God’s extravagant love for me.  In the darkest places, I found Him there with me.  Speaking to my heart.  Speaking life into the hurt places.  I’ve learned what it’s like to seek and find Him. I’ve thrown myself at His feet in a teary heap, time after time.  Sometimes moment by moment.  I’ve learned that even in the hard times, He gives us enormous blessings.  I’ve learned joy doesn’t come and go with our circumstances.  But joy can be experienced despite our circumstances.  Joy is a fruit of the Spirit, second only to love, it flows from God, not circumstances.  We have a fundamental need for joy in our lives.  Life without joy is overwhelming, depressing and just plain sad.

God loves all of us extravagantly.  And He’s not finished with a single one of us.  The fact is, He has a sovereign plan that is for good and not evil.  For joy and not sorrow.  He is writing a story of on-going redemption with each of our lives.  Our lives are woven together through seasons.  It’s one person’s season to experience this.  And another person’s season to experience that.  Neither is loved more.  Neither is more dispensable.

Ecclesiastes 3:11 sums up what I’ve felt in my heart in a few simple, powerful words: He hath made every thing beautiful in his time.

His time. His time. His time. HIS TIME.

Joy comes in knowing Jesus, experiencing His presence and trusting His timing.  Joy comes when we fall more in love with the One who loves us most.  To experience joy is to experience Jesus.

So many times we want joy, but not trails.  We want faith, but not testing.

Y’all, I’m going to be honest, I’ve thought many times how much easier my life would be without pain, without surgeries, without loneliness, without heartbreak and without financial hardships.  As crazy as it sounds, I wouldn’t change a thing.

He has me on this journey for a reason, a reason only He knows.  I’ve always thought it could be because someone needs to watch how I walk through these trials.  And because of that, I want to always walk it the best I can while giving God the glory!

God often uses the hard to refine us.  To transform us into the person we were created to be in the first place.  More like Him.

If you are going through a hard season of trials, I encourage you to find joy in the midst of the hard.  While it isn’t always easy, it is always worth it!

And that, my dear friends, is my testimony.  I want to leave you with a hymn I heard on my way home today.  Again, a God moment.  I thought the precious words were fitting for this post.  The song is You’re Still God by The McKameys.

I thought that it would happen to anyone but me
I never dreamed that I would carry this heavy burden on my knees
I never thought that I’d be standing just where I stand today
I’ve never known this kind of heart break I’ve never felt this kind of pain, but….

You’re still God when my eyes have cried a million tears
You’re still God when my last hope has disappeared
You’re still God and I know you’ll make a way somehow
You’re still God and you’re holding me right now

My heart can’t find the answer or the reason for this trial
But, Lord I know your ways are perfect and you’ve been watching all the while
For to me you’ve proven faithful time and time again
And I’m learning Lord to trust you even when I don’t understand

She told me her heart aches for me, like deep down inside of her, where the winds howl and moan.

It makes me take a step back and catch my breath.

Though I have admittingly been through trials, oddly enough to me, the one trudging through the valleys, they had never hit me as gut-wrenchingly hard as her words just had.

And I tell her that there are always hard things howling through the rhythms of life.  Hard things that build the framework for our prayers.

This messy life, the one I daily live and only partly share, is undoubtedly hard.

For someone looking in through the windows of our house, the hard would create a deep heart ache.

It’s been physically, emotionally and mentally difficult.  I’ve lost friendships.  I’ve lost my job.  It has changed my appearance and it has changed who I am as a person.  It has changed my marriage.  It has caused my children to have to really think hard to remember what life was like before Mama was sick and they’ve had to grow up faster than they should.

But for me, looking out through these windows into a world with much deeper hurt and pain than I experience, my mess feels like an enormous blessing.

If I spent my days focusing on the hard and the messy, as easy as that would be, what would I gain?  It would suck every ounce of joy from my being, replace it with despair.  It would settle me into a place where the howling, moaning winds would toss me around like a rag doll.  The numbered list of blessings would turn into an enormous list of every hardship I’ve ever faced.

The only way out was to look up.  I knew I had to.  I needed to see something beyond what my eyes told me.  So I look for Jesus, often.

I have found so much joy in celebrating my mess, there isn’t anything I would change.

I choose to celebrate my mess.  And celebrate the extravagant grace of Christ.  I keep my eyes on Jesus and His perfect sacrifice – because my life is a far cry from perfect.

In the darkest places, I found Him there with me.  Speaking to my heart.  Speaking life into the hurt places.  I’ve learned what it’s like to seek joy and find it.  I’ve learned that even in the hard times, He gives us enormous blessings.  I’ve learned joy doesn’t come and go with our circumstances.  But joy can be experienced despite our circumstances.  Joy is a fruit of the Spirit, second only to love, it flows from God, not circumstances.  We have a fundamental need for joy in our lives.  Life without joy is overwhelming, depressing and just plain sad.

The tired Mamas, the hurt wife, the discouraged Pastor, the heartbroken friend, the ashamed sinners, the chronically sick and so many more – we are the ones who get to celebrate the grace of a sovereign Redeemer!

Christ invites us to celebrate not because we’ve got it all together, Lord knows I’m a hot mess most days,but because He’s finished it all at the Cross!  Celebrating our mess doesn’t mean we’ve gotten it all right, but we’ve received His Grace.

God often uses the hard to refine us.  To transform us into the person we were created to be in the first place.  More like Him.

And with that we can dance in the wild rain of grace!