Thursday, January 28, 2010


So, my last blog told a story that never happened to me. For balance, here's a story that did:

When I was 16, the first semester of my Junior year of high school, I was hospitalized. For three days and four nights, I got my own room and a bed. It wasn't quite the vacation that that last sentence makes it sound. I was on a liquid diet, which is one of the worst things in the world. My disgusting breakfast consisted of lemon jello and vegetable stock. My tasteless lunch was cherry jello and beef stock. Dinner was the most enjoyable "meal," which consisted of orange jello and chicken stock. To this day, I can't eat jello. 

I was there for an ulcer, which basically means my stomach was bleeding. They use to think that it was only caused by stress, but they found a virus that causes it, which is what I had, and which explains why such a young person had an ulcer (as difficult as Junior year of hih school was, it's not quite ulcer-inducing).

It was a very weird day when I was rushed to the hospital. I was helping my mom's friend move, but I wasn't much help because my stomach was hurting terribly the whole time. When we got home, I remember pouring myself some water one minute and then waking up one the ground the next minute, the back of my head and elbows in pain apparently from hitting the floor. I went downstairs to get ready to go to the hospital. In the parking lot, I threw up. Blood. 

On the way to the hospital, I was praying, as I'm sure most Christians would in my situation. My prayer wasn't really that I would get there safely or for healing. I and my possibly overdramatic 16-year-old mind were pretty sure that I was going to die. And I was alright with that. I was praying more for my mom, who would have been completely dismayed if I did die.

I was completely fine with the thought of dying, even at such a young age. God had given me an amazing peace. I knew that if He wanted to take me out of this life, He would take me to be with Him. I probably had every right to be freaking out at that moment, but God gave me peace. Now, more than 7 years later, I'm filled with worry and anxiety all around me instead of trusting in God's provision and accepting His peace. I pray that I--and you--would find peace in God in the midst of life's trials.

"do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus." -Philippians 4:6-7