It’s been many months since my last post. For the few of you who don’t know, in early August of last year, I had my spine fully reconstructed by three of the world’s top spinal surgeons. The procedure went well, but I ended up with several severe complications that landed me back in the hospital. For details on this journey, you can visit our frequently updated GoFundMe page here: https://www.gofundme.com/help-with-anna039s-spinal-surgery
Several of those aforementioned complications have stuck with me over the last several months, and as I try to fight through them, I had some observations to share.
As I write this, I’m talking to my friend about suffering. She’s been having a hard time with several sad and frustrating happenings in her life, and we were commiserating and talking about the impact our hardships have had on our respective walks with Christ. I ended up sharing a brief story that I’ll share with you all now:
When Aaron and I were first getting serious in our dating life, I flippantly said something like “Sometimes I wish I could just die already and get to heaven to be in a perfect place with Jesus!” Aaron, being the selfless, wonderful man he is, was rather hurt by that. He said “What? You mean that if you had a choice to stay here with me or leave me and be with Jesus you would choose to leave?” And I said “Of course! Wouldn’t you?” And he said back to me, “Of course not - I would never willingly leave you here, even if it meant greater happiness for me in the moment.”
SO - I was put in my place. (PS - can anyone see why I got married so young, yet?) Yes, we both loved Jesus more than we loved each other, but we also did love each other, and spouses probably shouldn’t be daydreaming about a selfish choice to abandon one another for a life in heaven with Jesus before the appointed time. We’ll get there when it’s time, and after all, THIS life is a life with Jesus, if you do it right. I ended up having to walk back what I thought was a perfectly sound theological argument for the sake of our relationship, only to discover years later that it was not, in fact, sound at all. Ha! But, when I was sharing this story with my friend just now, it called into question whether I still felt that passionate love for and desire to be with Jesus in heaven as soon as possible. My answer to myself, hard as it was to admit, was this:
Yes, I want to be in heaven. Of course I do! Who doesn’t? Between this place and that place, who would choose this one? That’s like willingly choosing a pie from the dumpster instead of the one fresh out of the oven. No thanks. But what’s my reasoning behind wanting to be in heaven? It’s this: I don’t want to be in pain anymore. In my short life, I’ve endured more physical pain than most people will in a lifetime. I can say that with confidence after being hospitalized for being in so much pain that I had a resting heart rate of 180 bpm for over three days straight. For those of you who aren’t familiar with how high that is, just imaging going on an 80 hour dead sprint. Not a half-hour jog. And now, imagine your heart expending that much energy purely because of pain.
So yes, I want to be out of pain. But do I want to be with Jesus? After everything He’s done in my life, am I looking forward to being face to face with That? The One who has “refined” me to the point where my heart actually stopped? Am I looking forward to that?
I want to say no. But what trumps the Bitterness Seed that’s trying to weasel its way into my heart by screaming “You didn’t deserve this!!!” is my belief that Jesus loves me. I wouldn’t wish what I went through on my worst enemy, but He wished it on one of His beloved children. And that’s part of Who He is. The real question is: do I have the depth of heart, the tenacity and maturity, to be able to actively and passionately love a Christ, a Friend, who has done this to me? And Who continues to do this to me? My answer is: I’m trying.
I remember collapsing on my parents’ steps when I burst through the door with my dad after going on our first walk together around the whole block after my back surgery. I was in so much pain I could barely breath and on so many drugs that I could barely think. As I sat there, sobbing and sweating and panting for air, I could only get out two words: “Still Jesus.” I sat there blubbering those two words over and over again, in between my gasps for air and my sobs.
I will still choose Jesus. Even when I want to say “I never want to see Your face again - I never want to hear Your voice or follow Your will - in fact, I’m thinking of joining the weeping teeth-gnashers from Luke 13:28,” I will instead say with my whole heart, “Still, Jesus.” I will render my heart unto Christ, forcibly if necessary, because more than anything, I believe that Christ is real and that He loves me. And if those two things are true, bitterness has no place in my heart. There is only room for two words: Still Jesus.
Thank you all for praying for me and thank you for sticking with me in what seems like a non-stop barrage of disappointments and frustrations. Your prayers, your support, and your friendship has made an almost unbearable journey that much more endurable, since we are sharing the load. I’m so thankful for you all. Please check out our Go Fund Me page for the latest updates on my journey. We are no longer taking donations there, but we continue to post updates. Thank you again for everything.
Loving you,
Anna (and family!)
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