My junior year in high school started off like most years. New subjects, some new friends, and a fresh desire to see how the year would unfold. Little did I know what God had instore. I may not have been so eager to begin, if I knew what was to come.
I joined a basketball team named "The Beasts". I watched my team grow from five enthusiastic girls, to eight. I noticed shoulder pain during some practices, but thought nothing of it. Our first game rolled around, and I was eager to play. Half way through to game, however, my small shoulder pains turned to throbbing spasms. My team needed me though, I stuck it out and managed to finish the game. At the buzzer, I threw up a shot, and came down with a cramp in my calf, and an inability to breathe. I had left it all on the court and wouldn't return for a month.
After the game, life didn't change much. I continued with my activities as usual. When I asked for prayer at a praise band practice, a doctor amongst us checked it out. He diagnosed it as a muscle spasm, and my mom immediately made a doctor's appointment. "I don't want to go to the doctor. I don't want to be sick." I told Ben as I burried my head in his shoulder and let him hold me. The promise that it would all be Ok was my only comfort as monday, the day of my appointment, drew nearer.
I wanted to run away. I wanted to just run and run and run til no one could find me. No more pain, no more shoulders, no more doctors. Monday came, and Dr. Doyle diagnosed my muscle spasm and prescribed flexiril to loosen me up. I didn't respond. She sent me to the BPR where I had physical therapy the whole month of December.
After PT, I was better for about a month. I felt great! Life was back to normal, and I could move on from the dark month of December. Tragically, I wasn't anywhere near done with my medical issues. My shoulder pain returned, and this time I walked into the office of a chiropractor, Dr. Schluter. He seemed hopeful, but all I got were suggestions. He suggested stretching and vitamins. The stretches only worsened the tightness in my neck and shoulders, and the vitamins did nothing. Finally, Dr. Schluter said he didn't know what else to do. He popped my back back into alignment time and again, but it just shifted back out. Everything he did just put me in more pain. He said he'd be in touch if he found a solution, but he didn't sound too optimistic.
This all happened on a monday. After returning home, I cried angry tears and yelled at the God who had put me here. I told Him I was angry, and I told Him I couldn't take this anymore. It didn't feel like He heard me. I cried louder and louder. Nothing. I slapped on a mask and went on about my life as if nothing was wrong. I was rotting away on the inside. I felt numb. My depression consumed me. I didn't want to see anyone. I didn't want to do anything. I just wanted to be alone. God wasn't content with that.
The wednesday after the failure at the chiropractor, I talked to Ben. He had bible verses for me, and told me I wasn't alone. He wasn't going anywhere. Ali, Caleb, and Ben stood by me as I watched God tear my life apart with no hope of patching it up. I watched my plans for the future go up in smoke. I watched my self esteem plummet. I watched in anger and frustration as my life fell apart at the seems.
April rolled around, and life wasn't too bad. I had good times hanging out with my friends and coming to terms with my condition. By May, it all became clear. I wasn't listening. God had been waving His arms and shouting at me, trying desperately to get my attention. He was trying to tell me that my plans weren't His plans. I hadn't given Him everthing. I hadn't given my hopes and my dreams. When He tore my life apart, it was only because He had better in store. I was starting from square one. I felt Him take both my hands, and as He held them tightly, He put one over my eyes, and one in front of me. He asked me if I'd let Him lead me again. I had no choice. I said yes. I felt His arms around me as He comforted me in my loss. I saw Him light the way where He wanted me to go. I felt crazy. I felt stupid. But that's what He wanted.
I'm in massage therapy now. Tomorrow promises healing and recovery. I hope and pray that HIs Will be done, and that whatever I do be pleasing to Him. This year has been a journey. It had its twists and turns, but I see now that that was the only way God could get my attention. Looking back, it wasn't so bad. It just makes me look forward to what tomorrow has for me. I look eagerly to the future, knowing that one way or another, God will have me do what's the best thing for me to do. I only hope I listen better next time.
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