My Scar

In August of 2006, I woke up one morning with partial blindness in one eye. After a round of doctor's appointments, I remember sitting with a retinal eye surgeon and discussing possible causes. By this time, the pictures taken of my eye had confirmed it was a blood clot, the lingering effects of which would hopefully dissipate within the span of several weeks. I could see better by the time we were having the discussion, but my fear was as palpable as the clawing Texas humidity of that August day.

I remember asking him if stress could be a contributing factor in blood clots. He reluctantly admitted that stress could contribute to any physical disorder if it was high enough, and if other contributing factors were present. Most concernedly, he said, was the fact that I was 24. He gestured in the direction of the waiting room and continued, "You might notice that you offset the average age of my patients by about 60 years."

You would think that the threat of premature aging and physical disease would have jarred me into some sort of personal revelation in that moment. Unfortunately, it took over a year to get me to that point. Fast-forward to January of 2008 in yet another doctor's office, this time a rheumatologist, who blithely conveyed a diagnosis of lupus before moderating his voice to lecture me about my level of stress. He told me I needed to see a therapist because something in my life had to give. Even he could tell I was not letting go without help.

With the help of a counselor, by April of 2008 I quit everything that was not necessary. When you're busy, you've probably bought into the myth that you can multitask and still produce quality work (or have quality relationships). One fear, however, proved true. When I relinquished my commitments, people were disappointed in me. People judged me. Certainly not everyone. And I don't really blame the ones who did.  Because I didn't know how to quit with vulnerability, I left some commitments without any explanation.

My point is this: pulling the rope is risky. Being forced to upend your life in a culture where excelling in multiple disciplines is valued and quantity reigns over quality means that there will be a contingent of people who don't understand the necessity of a mid-line halt. In fact, it's the grace of God that quite a few people did stick with me; I was messy.

Honestly, I'm discovering that now, as I try to build my life back, I can still become overcommitted.  There are moments every day when I have to stop. Determine whether or not I can commit to something without sacrificing the quality of something else.  Say no to dross so that I am saying yes to simple life abundant.  It is what's required, in my life at least, for keeping peace.

Don't worry. If I start to forget, I just close my eyes. There is a faint, small scar from my blood clot that lives on as a reminder of the cost of blundering ahead, skipping over the warning signs of being overcome, and vainly trying to prove something by giving Him an offering He does not require.

Isaiah 1:11

"What are your multiplied sacrifices to Me?"

Says the LORD.

"I have had enough of burnt offerings of rams

And the fat of fed cattle;

And I take no pleasure in the blood of bulls, lambs or goats.

Psalm 50:10-15

10"For every beast of the forest is Mine,

The cattle on a thousand hills.

11"I know every bird of the mountains,

And everything that moves in the field is Mine.

12"If I were hungry I would not tell you,

For the world is Mine, and all it contains.

13"Shall I eat the flesh of bulls

Or drink the blood of male goats?

14"Offer to God a sacrifice of thanksgiving

And pay your vows to the Most High;

15Call upon Me in the day of trouble;

I shall rescue you, and you will honor Me."