My Refuge, My Strength
A few months ago when I started my blog I extended an invitation for anyone who wanted to be a guest writer. So my dearest and longtime friend, Caroline Kim, was one of the first ones to express interest and she submitted this entry to me. I was so encouraged by her taking this step of faith to be transparent to all the readers and share a topic that's close to heart in hopes that it encourages others. Let me tell ya, it's not easy putting yourself out there but there's freedom, strength and beauty in vulnerability.
Caroline, thank you for writing and sharing your beautiful story. xo
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“Oh, taste and see that the Lord is good! Blessed is the man who takes refuge in him!”
Psalms 34:8 ESV
When I was a child, I often wondered why I got sick or injured so often. I asked God, “Why me?” all the time. Then as an adult, I would tell myself that people have terminal diseases or are disabled for life. So therefore, whatever I was dealing with wasn’t so bad. And that we all have our thorns in our side because that’s how God made us. I would try to fight through all the fatigue, pain, and illnesses, and push my body to its limits, studying or working late, traveling often, and going out a lot.
For me, I told myself that God made me special with a thorn of weak immunity and frequent injuries. But that didn’t have to stop my ambitions or social life. I would conquer the world no matter what and nothing would get in my way.
Yet, it kept stopping me in my tracks. In this past decade, I’ve averaged about one surgery a year—ranging from knee ligament repair to major jaw disc removal. And the one year—2018—I actually didn’t have a surgery, I got a tear in my carotid artery along with pneumonia and the flu all within 2 months. It’s as if God was knocking me down to make me take a breath. I’d accept defeat for a little while. Then I’d just pick up right where I left off and basically challenge God again. I knew my body couldn’t keep up, but I was going to will it to do so anyways, even if God kept trying to get me to slow down, or so I thought.
It was physically and mentally exhausting. Decades of doctors, appointments, medicine, and the health expenses. Sometimes, I would cry myself to sleep while asking God for a new body. But I knew that wasn’t the answer. In my despair, I turned to God with my anger, self-pity, loneliness, and frustration. I knew that even in these struggles, there was a purpose and that was also my refuge and comfort. He didn’t cause us pain for pain’s sake. There was some greater purpose. I just didn’t know what it was.
Then 3 years ago, I was diagnosed with a chronic, debilitating, joint condition. It’s called Ehlers Danlos Type 3, and it explained my life. My muscles would be extra flexible and more prone to injuries. And I had extra collagen in my body that would send my systems out of whack, hence my various health issues and the chronic fatigue. It all made sense. I was still in pain or sick all the time, but at least now I knew why.
Finally, I gave up fighting my body, and essentially, fighting God. Instead of asking why and demanding change and answers, I began to accept who I am and the challenges I face. I may never know all the answers, but I was ok with that. I accepted me, just as God accepted and loved me.
My doctors actually say I’m “special” because if there’s ever 1-2% chance of someone being an anomaly, it’s me. For instance, even though my eye pressure may be within normal limits, it’s lately become higher than my average and I can’t see part of my peripheral vision. Most people wouldn’t be affected by a small increase, but I’m a “special case.” It’s quite comical.
I am special though. We all are. We are all uniquely, wholly, specially made by God. Now I don’t know why I’m that exception in the numbers, but I am. I’ve accepted that I need more sleep than the average person or that I need to be extra careful about my joints.
And when it’s hard to get up, physically and even mentally, God is my refuge. I let go of trying to fight my weak body. I just try my best to take care of what I can, like food, sleep, and exercise, and I let God take care of the rest. I gave it all up to Him. Because He knows my heart. He sees my frustration and my tears. And He gives me the daily strength to power through. It’s just enough.
True peace in the Lord is knowing He’s got it all under control. I don’t have to fight anymore. I don’t have to crumble at every illness or injury. He loved me too much to let me keep on fighting my body and trying to push it to its limits.
He’s given me the grace to live and to live an abundant life with what I have. And perhaps He made me “special” this way so I can share my struggles and my experience. Ehlers Danlos is actually pretty rare. Many doctors don’t even know the condition that well or treat adults with it. It’s often treated in pediatrics because that’s when it’s more commonly discovered. But I was lucky to be diagnosed. Some others go their whole lives never knowing they have it and just thinking they’re crazy for all these ailments. I can share with others about this condition, my lessons, and God’s grace in my life. The more people know about this condition, the more aware they’ll be and can recognize it. And the more I share my struggles with others, the more I realize I’m not alone, and they see they’re not alone either.
So there is good in this. God is good. And He is my refuge.
Caroline, thank you for writing and sharing your beautiful story. xo
______________
“Oh, taste and see that the Lord is good! Blessed is the man who takes refuge in him!”
Psalms 34:8 ESV
When I was a child, I often wondered why I got sick or injured so often. I asked God, “Why me?” all the time. Then as an adult, I would tell myself that people have terminal diseases or are disabled for life. So therefore, whatever I was dealing with wasn’t so bad. And that we all have our thorns in our side because that’s how God made us. I would try to fight through all the fatigue, pain, and illnesses, and push my body to its limits, studying or working late, traveling often, and going out a lot.
For me, I told myself that God made me special with a thorn of weak immunity and frequent injuries. But that didn’t have to stop my ambitions or social life. I would conquer the world no matter what and nothing would get in my way.
Yet, it kept stopping me in my tracks. In this past decade, I’ve averaged about one surgery a year—ranging from knee ligament repair to major jaw disc removal. And the one year—2018—I actually didn’t have a surgery, I got a tear in my carotid artery along with pneumonia and the flu all within 2 months. It’s as if God was knocking me down to make me take a breath. I’d accept defeat for a little while. Then I’d just pick up right where I left off and basically challenge God again. I knew my body couldn’t keep up, but I was going to will it to do so anyways, even if God kept trying to get me to slow down, or so I thought.
It was physically and mentally exhausting. Decades of doctors, appointments, medicine, and the health expenses. Sometimes, I would cry myself to sleep while asking God for a new body. But I knew that wasn’t the answer. In my despair, I turned to God with my anger, self-pity, loneliness, and frustration. I knew that even in these struggles, there was a purpose and that was also my refuge and comfort. He didn’t cause us pain for pain’s sake. There was some greater purpose. I just didn’t know what it was.
Then 3 years ago, I was diagnosed with a chronic, debilitating, joint condition. It’s called Ehlers Danlos Type 3, and it explained my life. My muscles would be extra flexible and more prone to injuries. And I had extra collagen in my body that would send my systems out of whack, hence my various health issues and the chronic fatigue. It all made sense. I was still in pain or sick all the time, but at least now I knew why.
Finally, I gave up fighting my body, and essentially, fighting God. Instead of asking why and demanding change and answers, I began to accept who I am and the challenges I face. I may never know all the answers, but I was ok with that. I accepted me, just as God accepted and loved me.
My doctors actually say I’m “special” because if there’s ever 1-2% chance of someone being an anomaly, it’s me. For instance, even though my eye pressure may be within normal limits, it’s lately become higher than my average and I can’t see part of my peripheral vision. Most people wouldn’t be affected by a small increase, but I’m a “special case.” It’s quite comical.
I am special though. We all are. We are all uniquely, wholly, specially made by God. Now I don’t know why I’m that exception in the numbers, but I am. I’ve accepted that I need more sleep than the average person or that I need to be extra careful about my joints.
And when it’s hard to get up, physically and even mentally, God is my refuge. I let go of trying to fight my weak body. I just try my best to take care of what I can, like food, sleep, and exercise, and I let God take care of the rest. I gave it all up to Him. Because He knows my heart. He sees my frustration and my tears. And He gives me the daily strength to power through. It’s just enough.
True peace in the Lord is knowing He’s got it all under control. I don’t have to fight anymore. I don’t have to crumble at every illness or injury. He loved me too much to let me keep on fighting my body and trying to push it to its limits.
He’s given me the grace to live and to live an abundant life with what I have. And perhaps He made me “special” this way so I can share my struggles and my experience. Ehlers Danlos is actually pretty rare. Many doctors don’t even know the condition that well or treat adults with it. It’s often treated in pediatrics because that’s when it’s more commonly discovered. But I was lucky to be diagnosed. Some others go their whole lives never knowing they have it and just thinking they’re crazy for all these ailments. I can share with others about this condition, my lessons, and God’s grace in my life. The more people know about this condition, the more aware they’ll be and can recognize it. And the more I share my struggles with others, the more I realize I’m not alone, and they see they’re not alone either.
So there is good in this. God is good. And He is my refuge.
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