The phone rings. I get the results. Benign. We post all clear. We release the breath we didn't know we were holding.
The phone rings.
Can you come in tomorrow to see the surgeon?
You already called, everything's fine.
Well the surgeon has the report, he'd like to discuss it.
NO!! NO!! NO!!
He tells me my cells are borderline atypical. Not normal. Borderline, sounds familiar. At 15 I was told I had borderline Lupus, two years later I had Lupus nephritis (kidney disease). Not borderline Lupus anymore. To tell if more cells are atypical a large tissue sample needs to be taken or I can wait to see if it changes. I tell him no. It just comes out, without thinking. I'm tired. I can't. I'm done. I have been having problems with my reproductive organs. They're scheduled to come out. I have put it off twice for my breast biopsy. I can't take the pain anymore. I want it fixed. So I say no. I ask my doctor to remove my ovaries. She asks why. I may have the BRCA 1 gene. I was advised to remove them at 32, to lessen my risk. I thought it was silly. Not so silly now. My surgery is done. My ovaries were enlarged, they need to be biopsied. Now we wait.
I am in a be patient and wait on The Lord mode. I realize this should be my mode at all times. Do I really know what is around the corner? I think I should know how to fix
control, solve control, and answer control all my problems. They're mine. I should have control. I said it. I don't really want to have patience. I want control. It turns out I need to be patient and wait on the Lord to answer, lead, and guide me. My health, marriage, children, friendships, all these could benefit. If I just stop trying to fix, solve, answer all my problems on my own. How many times has God shown me I don't have to endure alone? Plenty. Unfortunately I battle a giant monster called pride. I know the solution to pride. Humility. I've had a few tastes of humble pie. Nothing says We'll be ok, we don't need your help like losing the feeling and muscle control from the neck down. Learning to walk again with a walker. Humble pie. Coming home from the hospital to find your home cleaned and laundry done. The laundry you couldn't do because you couldn't raise your arms. Humble pie.
This time I have said yes. Prepare our meals, do our laundry, clean our house, drive our kids, pray for us. Yes, I will let people in. Allow others to serve us, to encourage us, to be the hands and feet of Jesus. Now I can rest. Rest in the arms of a God who has blessed me with friends and family who have asked to serve us, has a plan to carry me through the waiting of gene testing and biopsy results, and will walk along side me as I face new trials. I will rest, wait, and enjoy my slice of humble pie which is teaching me to allow others to serve me with grace.