Restricted Area

Tomorrow, I will be having surgery on this trouble making arm of mine. Hopefully soon, the nerve pain in my elbow and numbness in my fingers, the dropping things and weakness in my hand will be a thing of the past. Part of me is so glad to be getting it over with. But the other part of me is, well, scared. I don't like being the patient. Having worked as a surgical tech for a few years, I know a lot about what goes on in the operating room. Being the patient is no fun, but it is a great way to learn humility.

Because Chris helped me through some medical issues while we were dating, he knew exactly what he was getting into when he married me. He knew I was difficult to diagnose. He knew I had issues I was too young for. He knew there would be times it would be a lot of work to take care of me. Because he went into this marriage with eyes wide open about that, I can appreciate his caring for me and receive his love without feeling guilty. It means so much to know that he will get up early with me and drive me to the surgery center while it's still dark. He will keep Olivia company in the waiting room. He will be there with me when I wake up. I am so grateful for his dedication to me.

But there's that one awful moment in the surgical experience.  I hate it. I've been there before. It's that moment when a nurse will take me to the restricted area. Patients and medical personnel only. No one who loves me can follow. They will have to wait outside while I face this part of my journey alone. That's the moment I dread.

There are few moments in life like this. Your very first day of school away from Mom. Death. Divorce court. Operating room.   These are defining moments. Know why? Because in these moments, it's just you and God. He's all you've got. He's the only hand you've got to hold, the only arm to cling to. Every other security is gone. If you seek Him in those moments, You will experience Him in a whole new way.

God Himself has promised in Joshua 1:5, "I will never leave you nor forsake you."  And Jesus' last words recorded in the book of Matthew were "Be sure of this: I am with you always, even to the end of the age.”

 (Matthew 28:20) Even when I'm going where no one else can follow. Even when it would appear that I am all alone in the world, Jesus is still there. He is always there. Even in restricted areas and deep, dark despair. Even in divorce, disease, and death, He is there. Tomorrow, when they wheel me into that room without the comfort of my child's hugs or my husband's hand in mine, I will remember the words of my precious Savior. He will whisper to me, "I am with you." And I will rejoice. He will be all I have, and that will be all I need.

Father, thank You for Your blessed assurance that Jesus is mine. Thank You for Your promises that are strong enough to hold me up when everything else falls away. Help me to always remember that I am never alone in the world. Great is thy faithfulness forever and ever. Amen.

In His reassuring love,
Amy


copyright 2010, Amy Wallace