Testing

January 21- March 5 I spent in Dallas. Some of it was driving around (~3,000 miles), visiting family and friends within a day’s drive away. Another (almost) two weeks of it was spent in bed, without the ability to do anything, other than the occasional painful walk to and from the bathroom or kitchen, along with many hours of Netflix binging and puppy cuddles. It may sound great, but it was hard for me.

What did I take away from the 6-week period?  

1. Living life as a missionary, I am always on the go, from translating an email, to helping with group therapy sessions, village outreaches, organizing donations, visiting families in need, participating in chapel services, washing soccer uniforms, and the infinite other necessities that may come my way on a daily basis, along with keeping up with my own sponsors and their support for me. I’m not familiar with having a down period, a chance to rest. Making a trip, having surgery, and being forced to stop and rest made me uncomfortable. I felt out-of-place. I almost wished I could be doing something for someone else, while sitting in my post-surgery discomfort. I’ve often classified myself more as a human-doing, rather than a human being. I don’t have to do so much to prove who God called me to be.
   
2. I have a great group of people I get to lean on in times of need. From family to friends, church members, previous missionary friends, college classmates, school faculty, I was fully surrounded by prayers and love like I had never felt before. It gave me a chance to reconnect with some I had lost touch with and truly helped me to see how so many go above and beyond to share their support with me. When I both got home from surgery and received the good news, I had about 15-20 people to text, call, or email that I was well, and I’m pretty sure I forgot about some, sorry!
   
3. The day of the surgery, February 7, I got to the hospital about 6:30 in the morning for my 7:00 scan. My wristband was put on right when the door opened at the front desk. When I was all through with scans, injections, surgery, and fully waking up, around 2:30, I was put into a wheelchair and didn’t have to walk two steps to the car my parents valeted. Throughout those 8 hours, from the front receptionist, to the nurse who did my injections and scans, the nurse who walked me back to my first room, the anesthesiologist who drugged me up, the surgeon who did the incisions and stitched me back up (along with the assistants), the nurse who was there by my side when I first opened my eyes, the assistant who gave me (my parents) discharge instructions and walked with me hand in hand to the bathroom, the lady who pushed me in the wheelchair, and the valet worker who pulled the car up, I felt like a celebrity, pampered and cared for with each and every one of my needs. That’s how I want to make each and every person feel when they cross my path…. although, I may decide against knocking anyone out with drugs or giving them the need to have stitches! (Special shout out to my dad and step-mom who housed me and put up with me and the whole process for those 6 weeks!)
4. January 14, I heard the word “melanoma” describing myself. February 15 was my first follow-up appointment post-surgery, where the doctor got the call then and there that I was negative for cancer. All that month, I was a mess of worry, doubt, fear, over thinking, and emotion. Just for a test that I couldn’t change, no matter how hard I “studied”. But, what I didn’t realize that the one who was actually taking the test was the one who created every part of me and knows what’s best for my future, the one who gave the surgeon the skills to be able to make the decisions, who provided those in pathology the tools and abilities to see the final report clearly, and watches over the communities, families, kids, and hearts I have yet to impact. Why am I to doubt if the one who controls all is also looking out for me?

It’s been a period of learning, growing, trusting, and believing. I am grateful to be wrapped up in the arms of the kids again, most of them asking how I’m feeling. It’s going back to the village and getting a huge hug from the village leader asking every week about me. It’s the house parents and psychologists who have told me they were thinking of me, praying for me, and were excited to have me back on the team. It’s the nurse and the doctor who physically make sure I am still standing, healthy, and infection free after getting back on the field only 4 days after my most recent surgery. Thank you to each of you who walked through the process with me, whether near or far.

^“2 Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters,whenever you face trials
of many kinds,³ because you know that the testing of your faith
produces perseverance. ⁴ Let perseverance finish its work so that
you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.”
James 1:2-4