When meeting with the surgeon last week, he told me that I could live a normal life again.
A normal life.
When he said that, I started to tear up, but in reality, I had no idea what I was tearing up about because truthfully speaking, I have never known normal.
And who has? What is normal anyways?
When I was told I had a congenital heart condition, I had no clue I had it. I suppose looking back on my life, it does make some sense now. Some things that should have been easy to do, were not. But I didn’t know any different, so how would I have known? Now knowing what a “normal” life could look like, Dan and I have often said, “but we don’t even know what that means!”
The thing is, how we define normal, is typically a life filled with no problems, no bumps in the road, but just a cruising through life. But is that REALLY what we want? When God is in the business of sanctifying us, to make us more like Him, to use our lives to influence other’s lives, how does “normal” fit into that?
Now don’t get me wrong. To be told I could have a “normal” life physically, like I said, brings tears to my eyes. At times the journey has felt long, but at times, compared to some, it has been so short. I thought my days of jogging were over. I thought my days of being able to play basketball with Mazy were over. I thought my days of feeling good, well, that they were a thing of the past. I thought that after having surgery, I would be back to okay, but not normal. I get that a congenital heart condition will always be a part of my life, but I never thought I would have the word “normal” spoken to me in that sense.
I truly can’t imagine. Well, maybe I can a little. On the other hand, to think I could pick Mazy up without getting winded? To think that I could walk down to the park that is 2 1/2 blocks away and not have to stop to take a breather? To think I could dust our home without having to stop and take a break? To think that I could exercise not “if” I wanted to, but when? To think that I didn’t have to plan my life around my diuretic medication?
I sometimes long for those days. But I know that it is purely my human side getting the best of me. I know that even in the umpteen times I go to the bathroom in a day, the amount of toilet paper we go through, the times I have to slow down, that God has a purpose in these too? Well, He does. Like our pastor said this past week, trials always prepare us for something. And though I don’t know exactly what for, I know that this too, is all for a grander purpose than I could ever fathom or understand in it’s fullness.
Normal sounds refreshing and freeing, but that can be a call to complacency, independence, and an easy time to say, thanks for the help God, see you next time! And that is what I do not want “normal” to do to my faith. Like my ‘Bama Mama said (a dear mentor I have from the South)…”if you can see it, it ain’t faith.”
I want the unseen to be what I cling to – my Heavenly Father. Not some medical diagnosis or prognosis. Not my inward desire for normal. Because normal is temporary, but salvation, eternal.