A Season of Trials (2)

I was so desperate.

I went back to my primary doctor begging him to help me. He sat in his chair with his arms crossed and said “I’m not really sure what else I can do for you at this point.” He leaned forward and said “I’ve had young women, your age, come to me complaining with the same symptoms. I sent them to a psychiatrist, and come to find out, they went through a traumatic situation during their childhood and eventually it manifested itself in physical symptoms.” My jaw almost fell to the ground … I was speechless. I had too much faith in my doctor. Unfortunately, my faith was in the wrong person.

I forgot about The One who not only heals, but raises people from the dead.

Oh, how that must have hurt His heart.

Everyday became more and more of a struggle. I was incredibly weak, the dizziness was awful, my legs and arms were shaky, the fatigue was horrible … I can go on and on with the rest of the symptoms, but I think you get the picture. I had to grab my elbow to prop up my arm while I brushed my teeth, I was that weak. Work became almost physically impossible for me. I finally told Marc I didn’t think I could work any longer. I couldn’t believe I uttered those words out of my mouth when I said that to him. I’ve always been an active person, since I was a little girl. I couldn’t wait to work when we moved to the states. At age 15, with broken English, I picked up a job as a telemarketer (worst job for a girl who’s English isn’t very good… remind me some time to tell you the story). So, to hear myself telling my husband I couldn’t work because I physically couldn’t  was very devastating for me.

I called my boss the next day and told him what was going on, and I will never forget what he said “Aisha, the three most important things in your life should be God, your family and your health. Take as much time off as you need and when you are ready to come back, we would love to have you back.” I held back the tears and I thanked him from the bottom of my heart. I was so grateful he said that, but at the same time I was sad because he was the best boss I’ve ever had. I loved my job and everyone I worked with. I didn’t want to leave.

Since working as a CNA in a nursing home, my dream was to become a nurse. I was taking Pathophysiology online when all of this was going on. It was my last class to take before applying to nursing school. Being ill and taking this class online was pure torture. I stuck with it but I had to drop out of school after the quarter was over. All the money, effort and time I put into school felt like it was all a waste.

I felt as if my life was falling apart right in front of my eyes and I wondered where God was at this point.

I become couch bound for a good two weeks. Marc would make me food and he would help me get up from the couch and walk. I am tearing up as I am writing this, because I never thought this girl who danced most of her life, ran and swam would have a hard time walking, brushing her teeth and making food one day. I realized how much I took everything, especially the little things, for granted.

One night, after Marc went to bed, I was on the couch just staring at the wall and feeling so empty. Wondering where God was. I got on my weak knees, trying so hard to hold my weak body up while staring out the window. I didn’t know what to say to Him because I was angry with Him. After a little while I started sobbing and said ~

“Allah never did this to me, why are You allowing me to suffer like this?! Where is the loving Jesus they all talk about?!”

My head on the floor and barely able to speak because I was crying so hard, I prayed that He would take me away, fast, because I thought I was going to die. I prayed that He would bless Marc with a loving wife after I was gone. I laid there on the floor for a good hour just crying.

A few days later, Marc wanted to take me out to dinner just to get me out of the house and get my mind off of everything. I agreed. He held my arm and helped me out the door. During dinner I couldn’t help but watch people and think how lucky they were; I got really depressed. On our way home, I told Marc if he wanted to divorce me he could because my body was slowly deteriorating and no one could tell me what was wrong with me. He held my hand and said he will always be here for me. I looked away and started crying. We stopped at a red light and all of a sudden Marc said “look”, I asked him what it was without wanting to turn my head, he said “have faith”, I thought that was really random. So, I turned my head and he was pointing at the car in front of us.

The license plate said “havefaith”

Those words ignited some hope into my hopeless heart.

He knew just what I needed to keep me going.

Thank You, Father.

To be continued ….


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