Originally written: June 30, 2015
On Monday I had my first of three steroid infusions to help with my current symptoms. I’d been experiencing numbness and tingling in my torso, in parts of my legs and feet and most annoyingly, in my hands since the beginning of June.
The room at Aultman Hospital was small to begin with and there was already another patient receiving treatment, hiding behind a little white curtain that somehow was supposed to constitute privacy. I felt like a character in a futuristic book, coming in for the nurses to pour the daily drug into my veins like a coffee refill at the local diner. No big deal—it’s going to get you back to “normal.”
“How quickly do these work?” I asked the cute, middle-aged nurse who reminded me a bit of Mrs. Claus with her whitish hair, jovial smile and extreme positive attitude.
“Oh, I’ve had patients tell me they notice results after the first day! But don’t worry if you don’t…this really works for most people,” she promised.
Brian sat across from me in a little chair that could not have been comfortable. He joked that I’d be pumping iron soon enough with all these steroids pouring into me. He snaps a picture of me and sends it a friend’s way: I’ll be using the 40 lb dumbbells in no time!
But the smile does not reflect my thoughts. “Most people,” Mrs. Claus had said. Please Lord, let this help my hands. An hour and a half later they warn me that sleep may be erratic or nonexistent for the next few days. We walked out of the hospital—some liquid soaring through my veins and my mouth tasting like metal, a possible side effect that “most people” don’t get.
That night after open gym, I came home and talked to Brian as we stood at the island in our kitchen. I noticed that my dear friend, Ann, had left me a CD to take with me to the hospital. I was never home to get it before going to the hospital but something compelled me to want to listen. So I grabbed it, walked outside and got in our car.
Insert CD. Track 1: “It is Well.”
Repeat.
Repeat.
And I leaned my head against the rest in the shelter of the quiet garage, and I listened. And the Lord spoke to me through the words of the song. In my heart, I felt a peace—a peace that surpasses all understanding. And I knew in my head that it was from Him, but this song suddenly and so fully explained it (go listen if you can...it's far more beautiful to listen!!!):
Verse 1
Grander earth has quaked before
Moved by the sound of His voice
Seas that are shaken and stirred
Can be calmed and broken for my regard
Chorus
Through it all, through it all
My eyes are on You
Through it all, through it all
It is well
Through it all, through it all
My eyes are on You
It is well with me
Verse 2
Far be it from me to not believe
Even when my eyes can't see
And this mountain that's in front of me
Will be thrown into the midst of the sea
Bridge
So let go my soul and trust in Him
The waves and wind still know His name
It is well with my soul
It is well with my soul
It is well with my soul
It is well with my soul
(Kristene DiMarco & Bethel Music)
And the tears slowly rolled down my cheeks, not out of sadness but out of a deep appreciation for the Holy Spirit’s presence and the recognition of this gift that is so surely and fully from God. How could it possibly be well with my soul? And yet…it was.
It is well, I thought, with my soul.
And I pondered all the ways the Lord had been so faithful over the past few months. So much so that a friend had mentioned she was going to ask me to pray for her because it seemed “I had the direct connection.” She was joking but I knew it spoke to the Lord’s faithfulness in my life.
Far be it from me to not believe, I thought. Would I only believe in times of great blessing, in times of joy? Life isn’t only blessing. It’s real. It’s hard. It’s a battlefield for our souls. How could I not believe that this was the will of the Father?
And my soul--in that moment--it really was well.