You are here

I was standing at the entrance to Walmart when the elderly man came up to me and said in surprise, "Oh, I thought you were wearing a really good Halloween mask! I didn't realize that was your face." I simply smiled my crooked smile in response.

I am learning how to respond to the guileless way young children and the elderly react when they see my misshaped face. At first children are afraid, but given enough time they adjust. The elderly often speak without a filter, but when they see the hurt in my eyes they usually reach out an understanding hand to pat my trembling one.

Many well intentioned friends reassure me that my face doesn't really look that bad. I smile and accept the comfort they are trying to give. However, deep inside my heart is crying, "This isn't my face. My face never caused children to be afraid or strangers to think I was wearing a Halloween mask. There's been some mistake! This isn't my face!"

I've been back to Vanderbilt for my post op visit with both my Neurologist and my Neurosurgeon. Both of them have told me that there is a strong possibility that my face will return to normal. They are hoping that the paralysis is not permanent. This is their hope--but of course they can't guarantee that it won't be permanent.

I have often been reassured when I've gotten turned around at the Mall and found a map that had an arrow followed by the words "You are here" on it. I have sought for that same reassurance during this strange journey I've been on. There is an emotional suffering that I've experience when I haven't been able to recognized my own reflection in the mirror. So, looking at the map of my life, I see an arrow pointing to the word suffering followed by the words, "You are here."

My doctors have offered me a hope that doesn't come with a guarantee. But when I look for direction in God's word I find a different kind of hope and it even has to do with suffering. "We rejoice in hope in the glory of God. Not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings" (Romans 5:2,3) The hope that God gives is the ability to look at the sufferings of this life through the lens of eternity. No only that, but God's hope comes with the promise that our sufferings have a purpose, that God Himself uses our suffering to transform us so that we can reflect to the hurting world around us the love of our Savoir.

When I look at the map of my life and I see the arrow pointing to the word suffering followed by the  words "You are here," I am not afraid. I know that the hope I have will never put me to shame, because God's love has been poured out into my heart through the Holy Spirit who has been given to me.