How many times will I stare at these white walls and fight back the tears, trying to pull myself back together before the Dr comes in? I already know what they are going to tell me. MRSA. Again. I’m loosing track of how many times I’ve sat here. I guess if I wanted a count the medical bills stacking up could tell me. Or maybe the purple scars covering my legs.
Natural doctors, medical doctors, they are all at their wits end trying to help me. No one knows why I keep getting sick. You name it, I’ve probably tried it. Diets, essential oils, Antibiotics, the list goes on.
I want to give up, but I can’t. I guess I’m learning why the Lord made me so stubborn. I don’t question His goodness, but my heart questions His plan as my mind whispers “why?”. I know He can heal me. I’m more sure of that then I am of my own name. So why doesn’t He? It’s in anguish I ask, wanting to understand, not anger. He is to faithful to me to be angry with Him. His grace abounds even in this. Even here. Again. Continue reading