Beth Moore has a book called Get Out of that Pit, which I read a few years ago. In it she describes three different ways that we get caught up in those nasty pits that become strongholds in our lives.  We get thrown in, we slip in or we jump in.

Last week I was thrown into a pit.

I was told by my eye dr that the RA that I thought I had under control was, in fact, not in control but causing my severe dry eye issues and if left unchecked would cause my eyeballs to melt. He actually used the word “melt” and offered to show me pictures. Now, I CAN handle the truth, but there was no love in how that was delivered. He questioned why I wasn’t taking plaquenil or methotrexate. Ummm… well, have you SEEN the side effects? I’d like to keep what’s left of my immune system and my liver, thank you very much.

I kept myself poised long enough to get out of the office and I drove to Whole Foods, where I had an emotional break down in the parking lot. Getting a good cry out, I went in, bought some plants for my garden, sushi for lunch and a small box of gluten and corn free cookies. I promptly ate the cookies. I know, I know. I’m still working on this … I consider it progress that I allowed myself the cry and pass through several emotions while in the parking lot. Baby steps.

I contacted my health coach and a different dr. and they have both been extremely supportive. I have a new plan … an elimination/gut healing diet, some new blood work, perhaps a different med to use temporarily to get things under control (low dose naltrexone) …

Now I find myself sitting on the edge of my pit…I’ve been down in the bottom wallowing around – nursing my wounds, recoiled in emotional pain…and now I have clawed my way up the side of this pit, even had some help from friends to give me a boost. But I have a choice to make. I look down and see a ledge. I could easily hop down and hide a little while longer. Nursing my wounds. Hanging on to the pain. Listening to the lies. “This will never work. You will never be able to get the body you want. You are broken. It’s hopeless.” They are only whispers, but they are deafening.

I look up and look around, noticing that the air is fresher when my gaze isn’t down in the pit. I see light, new life, and hope. Why wouldn’t I choose life? What is so appealing about the pit? Ugh. Self-pity. Defeat. Depression. There were lessons learned here but nothing worth staying for. It’s time to move on.

It’s no coincidence that I began reading my friend Angela Dee’s new book Out of the Ashes We Rise – 40 days of hope when life seems hopeless. I love how God provides for His children … just what we need, right when we need it. Every day that I’ve read has been exactly what I needed that day. God is truly faithful. And loving.

He [Abraham] believed in God, who gives life to the dead and calls things into existence that do not exist. He believed, hoping against hope, so that he became the father of many nations according to what had been spoken: So will your descendants be. (Romans 4:17, 18 HCSB)

Time to get up and move along. I have new things to learn. I’m sure that God will be bringing some people across my path who struggle with the same health issues and I will be able to share my victories with them. I, too believe. Against hope — because I don’t put my faith in doctors but in God who can heal and who can show me what is best for me — my hope is in God. No matter the outcome, He will see me through it. I know He is more interested in me having a growing and thriving relationship with Him than anything else. I also believe that God created our bodies to heal. Yes, eventually the body breaks down. But I don’t have to speed that process up by abusing it.

So, I’m going to approach these next few months as a series of experiments and a research project. I will be investigating the problems and finding solutions. My attitude will need to remain positive. I won’t view the dietary changes as deprivation but rather as a source of healing for my body. Any new diagnosis (possibly Sjogren’s) won’t be a death sentence but clarification of the issues and empowerment for more targeted research. I am not alone, I have a great health coach, doctor, some other health coach connections and very supportive friends …. If I can’t find a support group, then I think that must mean I should create one. I’m willing to bet that there are others around here who could also use the support.

Time to leave this pit behind. I have a mountain to climb, but at least the air is fresh, I am not alone and I have Hope. I am taking my eyes off the pit and back onto God.

I lift my eyes toward the mountains. Where will my help come from? My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth. (Psalms 121:1, 2 HCSB)

~Dusting off and going on a hike