God must get amused by us when we need to learn the same lessons again and again.
I thought I learned the whole trusting God thing with this entire liver transplant journey. But yet, when I got word that my negative CMV reading was not negative again last week, I was defeated.
Of course I have a reason to be upset, and I let myself cry, and my amazing husband knew right away something was wrong when he walked in that door. He held me and encouraged me with his typical grace and humor and steadfastness.
I know I’m a lucky and blessed person but sometimes I just want to be a normal one. I must be on this journey for a reason but sometimes I’m a spoiled toddler who wants to throw in the towel and give up and be mad about the hand I’ve been dealt.
…but that’s not going to help. So today I woke up and I decided to look at what’s good. The sunshine through the windows in my pretty, little house. With doors that squeak and lights that sometimes flicker for no reason. It’s quirky but it houses me and my best friend. And whenever it rains, I am more grateful for it and I curl up in bed and listen to it and think about how happy I am to be alive. Sometimes I’m morbid and I think about, “what if I’d died?” I question what J would be doing right now. Still playing his video game I suppose, but he’d know the other half of his heart wasn’t on this earth, in the next room. But that’s not what happened and I got to live and I’ll be damned if I’m letting this CMV take away the joy of that.
Yes, I have a picc line and the nurses drive me crazy when they veer off our schedule. I hate the boxes at the door every Friday holding yet another batch of medicine. I don’t like dragging a cooler of meds through the airport.
but I DO like. LOVE. A lot of other things. The way Justin smirks at me when he knows he’s ticking me off. The way he plays with my hair. The sound of the rain. Coffee at just the right temperature with just the right amount of half & half. My church and how everyone smiles when they see us walk in and sneak into the back row. The dreams I make with J of babies and houses and chickens in the yard. The way my mom makes me laugh on a daily basis. The way I feel God’s love when I pray, when I look at the sky, when I get out of bed without wishing I could stay in it for days. The way I used to.
I love my life. I love my new liver. I don’t love this virus. But neither does my Jesus and I know He’ll take care of it in his time, just like he gave me my shiny new liver through my sweet friend.
I just need to trust. And make another cup of coffee.