I had a doctor’s appointment earlier this week. A few hours later, I walked out of the building with several referrals and prescriptions tucked in my purse, and my left shoulder was throbbing because the good doctor thought it was important to keep me up-to-date on my vaccinations.
Much later, in the car, a realization hit me: I had agreed to everything my doctor thought needed to be done without worrying about the cost.
I thought back to a few months earlier, when I took my boys in for their physicals. I had no worries then, either, and agreed to have what needed to be done, done. I only wanted them to be healthy.
Turning to my husband, I told him how awesome it felt to have health insurance, something I didn’t fully appreciate until a few years back.
Some years ago, at the height of the recession, the hubby was laid off. I remember those anxious months. We were worried primarily because we didn’t have health insurance. Not that the insurance we had before was all that great, but with two very active little boys, something was better than nothing.
Few things from those days stand out as much to me as that time when E, while trying to hide from his older brother, slammed my bathroom door shut.
The kid is strong, as evidenced by the shattering of the attached full-length mirror. Glass shards flew all over, and the boy’s finger was cut deep, almost to the bone.
Money was tight, but we had a well-stocked first aid kit. The hubby did what he could.
And we prayed hard that his finger would heal, without us having to take him to the doctor. And it did, although those were some anxious days.
Today, all that’s left is a scar, a scar that to me will always be what the rainbow was to Noah and his family.
Ebenezer. Thus far the Lord has helped us (1 Samuel 7: 12).
So the hubby was laid off for about a year. During that time, he worked at whatever jobs he could find, graduated from nursing school, and became a registered nurse.
Then he found a full-time job.
We started to breathe easier.
And now, he has a job he loves, and hates, at the same time. It challenges him, and it pays the bills. It also provides us with excellent health care benefits.
Thus far the Lord has helped us.
And yet, I am still prone to doubting.
I honestly think perfect faith is impossible. At least, on this side of heaven.
I think a certain amount of doubt is healthy. At least, I’ve learned so.
See, in my experience, those moments of doubt become treasured rainbows after God comes through and proves his faithfulness. Over and over again.
And when nothing seems to be happening, I find I cling even closer, treading water, struggling to stay afloat.
I understand there are people who claim they never doubt God. In fact, one young man once told the hubby off, telling him it was a sin to doubt.
I find it hard to trust people like that.
They always seem to be on the mountain top, the sunny side of life.
And I can’t help but wonder if they’re being entirely honest.
Or if they maybe found a way to detach themselves from reality.
Or if they’re from a different world altogether, one I’ve never had the keys to.
So then there’s me. I wrestle, I question, I struggle.
And I project my imperfections on a God I know is perfect, because my tiny brain just somehow fails to comprehend his perfection.
But then again, how can I resent that which keeps me on my knees?
Thus far the Lord has brought us. Beyond the horizon, he’ll continue to bring us.