I’m scared. (Health Journey) Scared of dying. I really am. I’m a Christian and I have no doubt that Jesus existed and that the things he said are true and wise and helpful. But, even as a devout Christian, my mind thinks about the moment; the scary, lonely moment when you close your eyes and you have no idea what will come next when you take your last breath.
I’ve been close to death.
I’ve taken what seemed to be my last breaths.
Laying on the bathroom floor because I can’t stand up any longer without passing out. A droning and wobbling in my ear and sickness in my stomach. I’m struggling just to breathe. The cold floor feels good on my tingling cheek. My daughter is waiting on me to tuck her in. I can’t move. If I move, my heart might seize, I might fall down if I try to stand up, I might throw up. If I move. I may never move again. They might carry me out on a stretcher while my husband and daughter comfort each other in a heap of sobs. I’m scared.
I thought those might be my last breaths.
I went to the cardiologist this morning. Not good news. He quite frankly told me that if I don’t consider gastric bypass that I will die. Something broke in me when I heard those words. The tears came because I believed him. I’ve tried hard. I’ve tried harder than I’ve ever tried before to lose weight. And I’m right back where I was when I walked into a seminar for weight loss surgery in 2005. Same weight.
I’m not ready to die.
Some days I wish that death would wash over me and I would pass on to those moments when all suffering ends. All struggling ends. All addiction ends. And peace begins. To the moments when I can see the face of my father, my grandmothers, my grandfathers, and most of all, Christ.
But right now. In this moment. I want to live. I want to linger on the kisses of my husband. I want to lay close to him in bed at night and feel his warmth. I want to hold my daughter and breathe in the softness of her cheek. I have stuff that I still need to do. Hearts to reach, hands to hold, minds to change.
I’m not afraid to die really. I’m afraid to have lived without conquering my flesh. I’m afraid to leave this world without trying all I can to beat my addiction. I’m afraid to give into temptation. I’m afraid to go screaming into death on the hot wheels of weakness. I’m afraid I will never meet a doctor who is on my side and understands the complexity of obesity, thyroid removal and medication.
Today I am overwhelmed, sad and exhausted. Frustrated.
Today’s verse from Air 1: Wait patiently for the LORD. Be brave and courageous. Yes, wait patiently for the LORD.–Psalm 27:14, NLT
It says wait patiently. TWICE! And be brave. Not afraid.
I will, Lord. I will.
UPDATE: Ready! I’ve processed this fear and frustration and now, I’m ready!