SubscribeFeasting on faith amid adversity
Leah had been in the kitchen preparing a salad when my friend Lynne and I arrived at her home. She warmly greeted us at the front door and, returning to the kitchen, asked if we would like something to eat. When we both declined, she seemed a little at a loss for what to do next. She’s a daughter and niece of black women who believe in sharing good food with family and friends who come to visit.
We settled at the kitchen table and over cups of hot tea, we caught up. It had been a while since I had seen Leah, a former work colleague who looked pretty much the same as the last time I saw her. As we talked, though, I learned about the physical difficulties that Leah has endured and how through all the pain and uncertainty, her faith has grown deeper, stronger. She gave me a spiritual meal that has strengthenedy faith. I hope Leah’s testimony will do the same for you.
Here is an updated version of an article Leah Y. Latimer wrote in 2008 for Vision Magazine, a publication of the First Baptist Church of Glenarden, where she is a member.
For the past few years I have learned what it means to dwell in a season of adversity. Looking back on what has happened so far, I can see how God continues to walk me through it, how He shows me things, how He he’s teaching me. He has stayed close even during those times when I am angry at Him for not healing me (according to my plan, not His).
I have been struggling with various illnesses for years, so now my vocabulary has expanded to include scary words such as meningitis, colectomy, hyponatremia, and metastatic.
In a one-year period in 2007-2008, I underwent four procedures. God must have a sense of humor, preparing me for all of this pain 21 years ago by letting me deliver a 10-pound baby before my epidural kicked in!
During that period, I also had three MRI’s, a CT scan, skull x-rays and other procedures too invasive to mention. In the most surreal week, I had a breast biopsy on Tuesday and a spinal tap that Thursday. On my way out after the biopsy, the receptionist offered me a nervous smile and a bunch of fresh tulips. In the neurologist’s follow-up appointment, I was delighted to hear I didn’t need brain surgery right away. Since then, professionals at Johns Hopkins who put the MRI on the light screen have said, “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
On July 7, 2008, I woke up strangely well. My hands and feet still felt like they would crumble into dust, but there were no more flashing lights in my head and I could see straight. Then, a week later, I forgot to take the heavy medications I’ve been taking four times a day going on three years now. I skipped more doses and in four weeks I realized I didn’t need them. To quote the psalmist, “…Morning by morning new mercies I see.”
Since then, it has been up and down. For most of 2009, I could not focus well enough to drive or to read more than a few lines at a time. Despite a surgery in September, the crushing, burning and electric-shock-like pain seems worse. Not being able to complete a sentence, looking off into space, slurring, well, all that varies from month to month. But after hospitalizations this fall and Christmas week, I again awoke strangely well, “lucid and alert,” one morning in January.
Meanwhile, doctors at Johns Hopkins have abandoned some awful diagnoses that threatened to make my prognosis even worse.
But God is good. My season of adversity has been a gift of time and solitude. I have more time to study scripture, more time to think and pray, more time to develop my relationship with My Lord and Savior.
What can I do but praise God for trials that bring me even closer to Him?
So I will continue to work on patience and endurance. I will be quiet and listen to the Holy Spirit. I’ll trust and wait on the Lord. I’ll cast my cares on Him because He cares for me. As it is written in James 1:2, I’ll count it all joy.
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