“Trust Me”
“I pour out my complaint before Him; before Him I tell my trouble. When my spirit grows faint within me it is you who know my way.”
Psalm 142:2-3
The other day I had a heart opening moment for me in many ways. I am one of those people who play that nasty old game of “worst case scenario.” You may know the game also, maybe even played it a time or two.
When I am especially worried about something or someone one, I run scenario’s through my mind. I am a big worrier, family trait I believe, so this game happens a lot. I know in my heart I should take it all to God, but sometimes I just can’t help my human self.
Last Monday we had our bible study on David, an awesome study with some real heart sharing. Trust is always something I struggle with. Past hurts, fear of failure, insecurities, self worth, all of it keeps me from complete trust, even in my God.
It’s not that I do not believe it is more of an “I should do it myself” kind of thing. I have spent my whole life doing just that, so trust is hard for me. It means letting go of control and allowing God or other’s to not hurt me.
I pray, I pray a lot. Sometimes it is an off and on prayer all day long. And I believe in God and in miracles. However, I think sometimes God likes to give me a little wake up call, or test. He wants me to trust in Him more in fact He wants me to trust Him in all things.
After our lesson last night we shared about trusting and listening to God’s voice when He leads us. It was a touching time that opened my heart even more. To be truthful last night I especially needed this sharing and study in God’s word. What I really needed was a lesson in trusting God with everything.
My wake-up call started about a week ago. I had some tests my doctor ordered, just routine tests, but one I had been putting off for a while. I had faced a health scare two years ago with a blood clot that had fearful me to the bone and was finally starting to relax and rest in the Lord. So the tests were needed and went pretty well.
Then two days later I get a call from the hospital asking me to return and re-take my mammogram. The kind voice on the phone said something about “Density” and might require an ultra-sound. I scheduled the appointment, felt a twinge of worry, but mostly felt a sense of peace.
I didn’t allow the “worst case scenario” thing to play any recordings in my head. When the thoughts did escape a time or two, I brushed them away with a short prayer. This for me was strange in itself. I actually felt as if God were telling me all was okay.
Then two days after the phone call, I get the form letter, only this was worded in a not so comforting way. It stated that “something was found on my film and you need to return”. Well, the enemy of worry threatened to shake me into that “worst case” thought mode, but again I shook it off. My first immediate thought was to reach out to a good prayer warrior and I did request prayer from my friend Beth and let it go.
So on Tuesday, I trudge off to the testing. The staff at the local hospital is amazing, compassionate and so kind that they put me at ease. The technician reassured me during the second procedure she did not see anything more and that I would most likely not need an ultra-sound. So I felt relaxed. I prayed a prayer of thanksgiving and chatted with another woman going through the same thing.
As I sat with this stranger in a small room trying to make small talk through her worries, I silently prayed for her. The technician came to take this kind lady off to her ultra sound and I told her I would pray for her and good luck. I sat alone only a moment before my tech returned and to my surprise told me I would also be scheduled for an ultra sound but again reassured me it was routine.
Waiting is the hardest sometimes. I had thought when I left work I would only be gone an hour tops and be able to attend a women’s health lunch. Little did I know what the real “test” laid ahead of me this day.
I was met with some truly amazing women health care givers and I cannot praise them enough for their kindness, compassion and care of me. I felt at ease as the technician who would be giving me the ultra sound explained the procedure and how she also felt all was well.
Two hours later, still lying in a position that made me think of a contortionist, arm over head, half lying on my side, a wedge supporting my side on a table surely designed for someone super tiny, upper anatomy exposed embarrassingly to young girls; I was prodded.
The frown upon the young technicians face as she searched for the spot the radiologist wanted her to concentrate on was only slightly unnerving. She gently told me she needed another tech to assist.
Don’t worry.” She explained, “I really do not see anything which is good, but the radiologist will want us to be accurate.”
She left me, lying in this uncomfortable position for I am not sure how long, but long enough for worry to set in, and my body to cramp. Finally, I slowly sat up, feeling like a “bad little girl” for not lying still and stretched. I listened for what surely was forever in my mind but in actual time only several extremely long minutes. At long last, she returned with a cheerful technician and they had me get back into my “circus contortionist” position. The prodding continued on for what seemed like forever, in fact long enough for the dreaded fear to shake me and the “worst case” scene playing in my mind as I strained to look at the screen and hear the whispers they two techs were speaking.
First off, hospitals should have more relaxing atmospheres for us fearful patients. I would have peaceful scenes painted on walls and ceilings, soft music piped in and please, return a clock to the wall so we can see how long we have been stuck in a boring room with our fear.
There was no place to look but an all white ceiling. There was nothing to hear but the concerned techs trying to pinpoint something unseen inside my body, making me more nervous by the second.
By now, the mind was like a speeding train with thoughts of disaster around the bend. There just was nothing to distract myself. I started thinking of treatment, of life, and about how to tell my family. I mean the “worst case” became planning the funeral. That is what waiting and the unknown can do to my mind. I caught myself in this shameful act and stopped a moment, took a deep breath and called out to God.
“God, please let this go okay, send protection to surround me.” Then I started quoting in my head the bible verses I had memorized.
Psalm 6:2
“Have mercy upon me Lord for I am weak. O’ Lord heal my tired bones are troubled.”
Psalm 18:32
“It is God who arms me with strength and makes my way perfect.”
1 Peter 5:7
“Cast all your anxieties upon Him, for He cares for you.”
On and on, over and over I would repeat and cling to His word.
A voice spoke two words in my head. “Trust me.”
Two simple words I felt in my head and heart several times. Peace enveloped me and raged a battle with the fear.
I grew uncomfortable in my position and frustrated. I wanted to shout please stop. Instead, I rested in the Lord who is my fortress. When I thought I could stand it no more, He would still me. The technicians after about an hour and half, decided to film what they did see and with serious faces told me they would confer with the radiologist who would most likely come in to repeat the ultra-sound.
This was not what I wanted to hear. I was allowed to sit up and rest a moment. Alone in the darkened room, God spoke again. “Trust me.”
After several moments, the technician entered and with a smile told me I had no cancer. I did have a nice sized cyst in an elongated duct. That might explain some tenderness I was experiencing. She told me all was well and repeat the mammogram in a year.
I will tell you without shame, I cried. I burst into tears of thanksgiving and let them fall. Relief set through me as my body shook with the emotion. I had a reprieve. I had a flash of the women who shared the waiting room with me and felt a surge to pray again for her.
I learned a lesson, one I hope to cling to this; Listen to that small voice that comes from God and wait. No matter what the news, I was in His hands. I was not in control and no matter what the outcome, He had me covered. I am so thankful I did not hold cancer that took my Grandmother and her sister.
I have a few other health battles to conquer right now, but I have the hand of God upon me, in that I trust.
Praising God!
Teresa Gale
