A Year Later

It was a hard year. It was a year of change. There were things that I had always taken for granted about my identity that I never thought would change, but they did. For example, last year when I had my brain surgery and my right auditory nerve was severed, I had no idea how isolated I would feel in a crowd. Losing the ability to hear much of what was being said has caused me to often feel alone even when surrounded by people. My severed balance nerve has caused me to feel a vulnerability I've never known before. A certain amount of confidence is lost when you're concerned about losing your balance. The expression to "lose face" means to be humiliated. To have your facial identity altered is hard; even though it has improved, it's still hard. But there are some things that haven't changed.

I remember last year when they rolled the gurney into the operating room. I saw all the people there, all the bright lights. I remember thinking how small the operating table seemed and how I didn't think I should still be conscious. Once I was placed on the operating table the head anesthesiologist began giving instructions about tilting my head back and holding me still. I could feel the panic rising in me. I also remember the prayer I prayed, "Jesus, take me to a place where my faith has no boundaries!"

I have found that a place where faith is without limits is best found when what you believe is tested. When I looked into the mirror shortly after surgery and I didn't recognize my own face I felt sick. My basic sense of identity was stripped away. But I have a deeper identity that I held on to. I found refuge and strength in the God who loves me; who promised to never leave me or forsake me.

When I woke up in the recovery room after surgery I experienced a thirst I had never known before. It was then I had a vision. I have been asked if perhaps it was a drug-induced hallucination; the truth is, I don't know. But what I do know is that what I saw so vividly then has stayed with me every day since. This is what I saw. I saw Jesus crying out, "If anyone thirsts, let him come to me and drink. Whoever believes in me, as the scripture has said, out of his heart will flow rivers of living water." My physical thirst was maddening, but in coming to Jesus I found the deepest thirst of my soul and spirit quenched.

A year has passed; a year of change, a difficult year, and yet it's also been a year when I have begun to experience a boundless trust empowered by the Spirit of God. The promise I received in the recovery room was not only that my thirst would be satisfied, but that "out of my heart would flow rivers of living water." Because what I saw was based on what I read in the the seventh chapter of John, I believe that it is true. I am grateful that living water can flow from broken vessels.