Salamat sa Prayers
My cavernoma is stable. The bleed did not grow. Thank you for the prayers. Faith really does move mountains, but only the mountains the Lord wants moved. God is big. You are small. He put a defect in my brain so I would see the beauty of life.
Thank you for your prayers.
My neurologist told me the cavernoma did not grow. It is stable. I do not need surgery. She gave me medicine to better control the severe headaches the bleed has been causing.
I sat with that news for a while before I could even type a thank you. There is a kind of relief that does not arrive loud. It arrives quiet, almost shy, because you know it is borrowed. The bleed could come back. A seizure could still happen one day. I do not know. But today, I have no pain. Today is enough.
Sorrowful things are spoken for the sake of joy. I am learning what that means in my own body.
What I am most thankful for is not just the scan result. It is the people I have been on this journey with. When I shared my story, I did not expect so many of you to write back about your own mountains. I read every comment. I responded to all of them. Somewhere in the middle of sadness and pain, a deep joy showed up, and it was sitting with you.
Maybe some of you are still in pain as you read this. Maybe you are waiting patiently for a miracle. Maybe you tasted a little relief and the pain came back and you do not know how to talk about it anymore. I know that feeling. I want you to know I am not writing this from a finished place. I am writing from the same road.
Pain is part of life. So is love. So is happiness. So is joy. So is sickness and death. We do not get to keep only the parts we like.
One sentence I keep repeating to myself is this: “Lala, you are just a dot in space.”
It is true that faith can move mountains. I have seen it. But I have to keep telling myself the second half of that truth. We are meant to move the mountains the Lord wants moved. The mountains we pray about will only be moved if the Lord wills for them to be moved.
The Lord is big. I am small.
I am not the center of space. I did not place the stars. I do not make the sun rise. He does.
Yes, we dig the soil. We plant. We water. But it is the Lord who makes the plant grow. How a seed cracks open and reaches up and bears fruit, only He can do that. Not me. Not the doctor. Not the medicine. Not even the prayers in isolation. He is the one who makes things live.
So we do the best we can. We pray hard. We take the medicine. We show up for the people we love. And then we hand the outcome back to Him, because it was always His to begin with.
I do not know when my cavernoma will bleed again. I do not know if one day it will steal something from me I am not ready to lose. What I do know is this: He gave me a defect in my brain so I would see the beauty of life more. All my sufferings have become doorsteps to see and feel more of God, and to feel the true purpose of my small life.
We are eternal creatures meant to see the wonder of an eternal God, no matter how small or helpless we feel on a given Tuesday. We are meant for something greater than getting through.
If you prayed for me, thank you. If you are still in your own waiting, I am praying for you tonight. Tell me where you are. I will read it.
For the glory of God.
- Lala