One Year One Lesson – The Truth of Healing

FACING THE UNKNOWN

It’s been one year.

One year ago today, we celebrated Easter at church. In truth, nothing can diminish the love and power of our Savior’s grace. But that day, my husband and I worshiped with heavy hearts. We were afraid. We were worried. God was preparing our hearts for a long lesson to be learned.

Earlier that week, sewage water poured through our hallway ceiling from an upstairs bathroom. I think it was the sixth water damage event in our five years there. It confirmed our suspicions of mold. You see, I’d been very sick for three years already. Despite all my best efforts, and many thousands spent on medical care, I was only getting worse. One of my doctors and my nutritional therapist both suspected mold, but up until that point, we had not done anything to investigate mold as a cause of my disease progression. We just didn’t know how. This event forced our hand. We needed to figure it out.

So one year ago today, after church, we made the decision to pack our bags and leave our house for a hotel. We had seen evidence of mold. We did not yet know the true danger, but we decided we needed to err on the side of caution. I came home from a lengthy hospital stay three days before the sewage water rained down. As soon as I got home, at the urging of my nutritional therapist, I discussed mold again with my husband. We were at a loss. We didn’t know what to do. I prayed that God would give us answers; that he would show us the way. Three days after that prayer, we had a very visual, very wet answer. We chose to see it as that. Not just a coincidence.

FINDING ANSWERS

We moved to a hotel, and then to a friend’s house, and then back to a hotel, and then to a furnished apartment, and then into an empty apartment. During that time, we learned that our house tested very high for several different types of toxic sporing mold. We paid a microbial consultant to help us consider the effects of mold on our contents. In the end, we decided to abandon everything we owned in the hope of a fresh start and a true, meaningful recovery for me.

We spent thousands of dollars on blood work that insurance denied. This blood work confirmed a diagnosis of CIRS (Chronic Inflammatory Response Syndrome). We sought the help of a specialist in Indianapolis. Methodically, one step at a time, I moved through a recovery plan. Our family moved from one day to the next, always in survival mode. One. Day. At. A. Time.

RECEIVING HELP

Moving into an empty apartment with only a car load of groceries and a bag of clothes is nothing if not surreal. For about two months, we slept on the floor and sat on patio chairs. With the help of a dear friend, our story was made public on a GoFundMe page. Help began to roll in. More than we could have ever expected. Leaving our contents was a desperate leap of faith. Insurance denied our claim for reimbursement. Our policy (and most, come to find out) don’t cover damages from mold. Nearly everything we own today was purchased with the help of friends. We are so humbled and eternally grateful.

Above all else, this past year has taught us to trust God. Over and over again, we found ourselves at a loss. I would say to my husband, “Well, that’s it. We can’t buy ___ . We’re out of money.” And then over and over again, within days of such a statement, a gift in the exact amount we needed would show up in our mailbox. The Lord did provide. Through friends. Through complete strangers. Through the greater body of Christ. Again and again, we felt the Lord saying, “TRUST ME. All will be well.”

MOVING FORWARD

Over the past year, my health has improved greatly. Many of my most debilitating symptoms have gone completely. I believe the largest victory was a winter without brain fog. Looking back, we now understand the pattern of my deterioration in the house. Each winter, my symptoms got worse. Each winter, my brain fog would become so bad that I could not read or write. I often would jumble my words and be unable to speak clearly. The neurological effects of mold on the brain are no joke.

This year, for the first time in three years, I have remained clear headed all winter long. In fact, I’ve devoured twelve books in the last three months alone. I’ve been able to work on my novel all winter, where before, I had to set it aside because I literally could not process what was on the page and what changes needed to be made.

Over the past month and a half, I have found myself once again bedridden, this time due to a reoccurring c-diff infection. This has been a disheartening blow to the forward momentum I’d been experiencing. But here too, I have felt God saying, “TRUST ME. I am with you.” My gut has been the last remaining piece of the health puzzle. My thyroid disease is in remission. The mast cell activation syndrome is under control. But my gut. Let’s just say there is still a long road to healing. We’re giving it all we’ve got. And above all else, I believe that God has a plan of healing for me. There is a path forward, though it’s not always seen clearly.

LOOKING BACK

Last night, my husband and I stayed up late talking about this past year. We can hardly believe that an entire year has passed already. It has been the fastest, most terrible year of our lives. We both agreed, that were it not for our son, we would have reached a much deeper sense of despair. His joy and resilience have kept us going. For him, we have smiled when we didn’t want to. We have said, “Everything will be all right,” when we really didn’t believe it ourselves. We have drawn together as a family and held tight when everything else has been stripped away. We will be forever grateful for the gift of our son and the peace he’s brought into our lives.

We’re approaching Easter again. I believe that our family will feel a much greater joy this year than last. But the truth is that God’s great gift is not dependent upon our feelings. It’s there. It’s given. Despite our feelings. In spite of our feelings. God’s mercies are new every day, even in the midst of sadness and fear and great tragedy. His grace abounds. Every day, in one million little ways, God says, “TRUST ME. My grace is enough.” And we know this to be true. Even when we can’t see it. Even when we don’t feel it. It is.