Two: Why I Believe

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I started a series Monday on why I am a Christ follower. In simple terms I want to share the ways Jesus has proved Himself true and why I make Him a daily part of my life.

I believe because He has healed me.

I believe because He has not.

When I was little, my religious training was just that. Religious. I attended every week but there wasn’t a lot to chew on. I had a lot of questions, right down to the virgin birth. I was told to stop asking so many questions. When I then decided Jesus must be like a genie, I asked for stuff. And when it didn’t happen, I made a choice to push Him as far as I felt He was keeping me.

Once I made that choice to allow Him in my life and that He was an alive Savior very much interested in everything about me, challenges rose up right away. The biggest was my health.

I had annual exams that were not coming back normal.

I had pelvic pain that was debilitating.

I had mood swings so dark I was ashamed to tell people how deep off the rails I felt.

By the time I was 25, I had a diagnosis, PCOS, polycystic ovaries. Back in the nineties, PCOS was little heard of. My doctor sat me down and explained the challenges I would most likely have to conceive. He told me his wife’s story, and that they have children. He encouraged me to not take a lot of stock in his words as a doctor because he was not God. He then suggested I have children pray for me.

It was a hard season. The pain, which I’m not fragile about, was a level 12. It hurt to walk. As a newlywed there were times I’d work, make dinner, and go to bed. I was exhausted.

One night the pain was so bad I wanted to just be done. Not kill myself, but not be alive. Just be done. I sobbed, I mean cried and cried beyond headache and red eyes. It was as I later learned a gutteral prayer so intimate and deep I could not form words. I basically emptied myself.

I also made a vow.

I told God if He could heal me of this pain, I was willing to give up my desire to be a mom. If it meant a hysterectomy that would take away all chances to conceive, I would never complain. Whatever His method, I was ready. And I meant it.

I had a surgery consult soon after. I felt the peace of Christ—it is something that defies description. There is nothing man-made that comes close to that feeling. Nothing. I was not prepared for the surgeon’s declaration. He didn’t think I needed a hysterectomy. He recommended a wedge resection. They are rarely done now, but he took out 1/2 of each ovary. His statement? It would enhance my chances to conceieve, not destroy them. He was just worried I would pin all my hopes on Him and blame Him if I wasn’t pregnant.

No, I assured him I trusted Jesus. That no matter what, I KNEW I’d be okay.

After the surgery and recovery, I never completed the first round of infertility drugs. I was pregnant.

He has been faithful and good to me.

Thing is, the pelvic pain went away but the mood swings did not. In fact, pregnancy and motherhood made them harsher. There were times the pit was so deep I saw myself walking to the medicine cabinet. I packed a suitcase once. I was just going to run.

It took years and years before I realized this was no way for anyone to live. I was not a failure to see a doctor about it, nor was I less of a believer. Medicine is one of the many ways Jesus heals.

I am now in menopause. I had a hysterectomy at 38. The last four years have been intense with sleeplessness, intense hot flashes, non-stop hunger, weight gain, and mood swings. I don’t know why I’ve had to have these things more severe than others. I don’t know why God didn’t take it away. Long ago I decided this must be the “thorn” God uses in my weakness that because of Him, I am strong. Because I am not healed of these things, I can share with others in similar pain.

I don’t feel that Jesus abandoned me. In fact, when I feel my worst, I feel HIM. It is comforting. Because I know His promises, I KNOW one day I will be in heaven, in my own mansion He built. He stores our tears. I am convinced one of our times together will be Jesus taking me on a tour of the warehouses containing my tears. And He will explain it all.

I also trust Him because in pregnancy I begged Him not to inflict the kids with anything I’ve suffered.

I have one child that struggles with anxiety that took me until recently to see I had the exact same thing.

I have a second child that while pregnant I felt God declare she would be an overcomer. I decided, without seeking God’s thoughts, what that would mean. I thought she would be spared. Instead, she has since being weeks old dealt with one diagnosis after another. Specialists. Lab work. Cruel procedures and even crueler people.

I’m pretty sure one of those warehouses of tears are my laments for all they have gone through.

Yet as they have dealt with these things, they have held tight to who God is and that they can do all things because of Christ. They have ministered people through sharing, but even with their smile. It blows my mind every time. Had they been born flawless like I begged, there would be no story.

Or glory and thanks I could give Him.

When He heals, I believe. When He doesn’t, I still do. It is not easy, and rarely is it immediate. But each time I’m faced with trusting Jesus or not, it gets easier to answer.

If you have any questions, I can’t promise to know everything, but feel free to contact me at juliearduini@juliearduini.com.

Stay tuned!