A few months ago I shared some medical challenges that my family was facing via this blog and at our weekly gathering for City Community Church. There have been some very encouraging recent updates, so I thought I’d post them here for those who are interested.
MANDY: my wife’s thyroid issues have all come back clean and clear, and following a couple of preventative procedures she is fully on the mend and back to keeping me and the kids in line (wish her luck with that one).
AUSTIN: my 4 year old is getting used to his new glasses, and if his mom and dad can be more disciplined with his patch therapy, there’s a long-term possibility his vision could improve enough to lose the eye correction altogether.
DISNEY: our sweet little Boston Terrier Disney…well no, she didn’t resurrect from the dead. But we did get a new miniature addition to the family: a Yorkshire Terrier named “Buzz.” (as in Lightyear).
ME: after two miserable months on anti-seizure medication (if I was mean, nasty, or completely unpleasant to any of you, I do have a medical excuse), I decided to see a new neurologist here in Indy. This second opinion yielded new perspective on my symptoms and reversed my initial “risk of seizure” diagnosis. Instead, it seems I have a condition known as Optical (or silent) Migraines. While still a neurological event, it is not as serious as a seizure disorder and can hopefully be managed without medication. In fact, I just finished the five week detox (those meds are serious stuff) and am completely off any medication for the first time since early October.
We’ve been excited to share these developments with you, and really to say thank you for all the prayers and love we’ve felt these last few months. Pain, suffering, and events beyond our control are often God’s greatest shaping tools. And as much as I hate that reality, this quote from my original October post rings truer than ever today:
I don’t want a belief system – a philosophy – that gives me easy answers I can frame and hang on the mantle, an opiate created to dull my pain. I need a Savior willing to embody my suffering, to redeem it, to shape me deeply through this far-too-often unexplainable journey, and to both weep and celebrate with me all along the way.
Sometimes our stories seem to have happy endings, and sometimes the pain and confusion is a long-term companion. But I’m learning to hang onto Jesus no matter what the journey brings, because I trust Him to use both joy and pain to unfold His perfection in me. I pray the same is true in your life.