“You’re results have come back, the doctor would like to see you,” I puked.

Okay, I only puked in my mind but it was gross and wildly real enough for me to run to the bathroom before tears or real vomit shot out from within. I rose my hunched back to review the aging eyes sunken in my face. Just five minutes ago I was confident. Just five minutes ago I was decided and fine with it all. Regardless the outcome, I was fine with it all.

I’ve been going back and forth to the doctors’ for four months, ensuring my health is intact after a few things had me running into unknown doctors arms, bewildered and unprepared for anything good. Keep giving it to God, I kept telling myself as I would walk briskly into that horrid place. Horrid only because doctors such as this are necessary and I know my father in heaven weeps over this sickness. And I always thought when I’d walk about in there that God would float through those revolving doors softly whispering Come to me my dear, my love. Let me bring your joy. Every time I’d leave, I’d sing or dance down the streets, feeling like freedom must be now, freedom must surely have come now. I won’t ever have to go back!

But then I’d have to go back. Again, and again. I’d beg for God just to save me, heal and purify me.

And while I stare into that unbecoming mirror, I remember I’m becoming myself. Regardless of this, I am becoming myself. All sorts of biblical mantras come pouring out my mouth, and I’m reminded I am becoming me. I determined I am yours. Albeit, I decided this even after you’d claimed me, called me by name. That’s right! You called me by name father, and whatever the circumstances with my health, you’ve given me purpose. I will fulfill it, and be unafraid. I’m yours, father. I’m yours. And I’d remembered I promised God I’d do my best to bring His glory, wherever and whatever I needed to do. I shared my faith with the nurses, praise God with every bit of good news that came back.

But here I was to go in again. I’d known to wear waterproof eyeliner; I’d be crying on my way out of that place regardless the outcome. And there it was. ” Deanna, we just wanted to let you know everything is perfectly fine with your health” PRAISE GOD. Oh praise God. “Not even high sugar levels in my blood” I questioned, “I’ve been eating an unpresedented amount of chocolate in the past few months”. She literally let out one single ‘ha’ and said no. That she didn’t want to leave me hanging, regardless the outcome. I wanted to hug her, but she said no. It’s fine, I’ll get over it. I was just so thrilled…

And the point isn’t that I’m healthy. The joy in tears on my way back to work wasn’t that my health was perfected –  though I know without doubt I should have seen something unhealthy come back – it was that I have decided, my friends. I have decided and will continue to decide that I am His, and He is mine. And regardless my circumstance, my health, my position, I am learning to be content with much or with little. I am learning, changing, and growing. I am being pushed and shoved into corners I never knew could exist for myself, and I’m not responding the ways I would have. I cried knowing I wouldn’t need to beg my heavenly dad to please, please not make me go back to that horrid place (not that it was Him who made me go in the first place). I knew I was finished. I knew my health was finally no longer a concern in this way. And I knew it because He first told me; it is finished. It is finished – and I’ve come to set you free. And then… I cried with humbled joy.

Dedicated to my friends. You know who you are. Thank you, and love you– Dee