There are somethings I may never fully understand. Like why I had to be sick. Why I had to quite school. Why I had to endure such horrible pain and suffering just to "get better."
While I was sick, all I wanted was to get better, to be made well. I prayed everyday "Lord, make me well." I dreamed of the day my hair would grow back, the day I could go back to work and school. And would wake up crying because they were just dreams.
But it came to me, one night, in the deepest part of my depression. Did I have to be made "well" in order to be whole? I asked myself this because during these confusing dark times during my illness, I started to feel, well, strange.
Strange how, you ask? Well, to start, I was feeling more peaceful in mind and body during my sickness than I had at anytime before. I didn't worry about the little things in life like I used to. I felt rested in spirit despite all those sleepless nights. I was, with no better way to describe it, at peace. With my life, with those around me, and even what was happening to me.
The best part though, was the closeness I felt to God during those times. I would sing myself to sleep sometimes because I was in so much pain. And I knew with every word he was right there beside me: his presences was undeniable.
And so when I write that is it is possible to be made "whole" without being made well, do not scoff. It may seem like a contradiction (God loves doing that). But I have been there. I have been very, very broken. And in the mist of my brokenness, God has made me whole.
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