...yet I will Trust Him

Well, where do I even begin? What do I even say? I’m writing, I guess, to me? to God? to, you? I’m not entirely sure.

August 2026

Dear, …no wait, maybe, umm..

To whom it may concern;

“Though He slay me, yet will I trust Him.“ Job 13:15  

And let me apologize. I’m sorry, I know, I know. Me in the hospital. Jump-scare! Heck, me too (if I could jump, without feeling faint). Terrified was one my firsts reaction, when my doctor called and told me, (do not pass go!) head immediately to the ER to be admitted to the hospital. You have GOT to be kidding me. Is this really happening, RIGHT NOW? My doctor’s alarming call came exactly a week after having a lumpectomy on my breast. We, my parents and I, were driving home from my 1 week follow up appt from my surgery. Healing beautifully, still am. Yet, this was unrelated.

Or was it? Is it ALL related? After a dead end negotiation with my doctor, begging and pleading for another way instead of (da da dah) the HOSPITAL.

I hung up. I looked up. Praying and secretly asking….”what on earth do You want from me?”

Then I looked at my mom. She had kind of heard. Her eyes were wide. She too, was stunned. I think my dad overheard too. He was in the back seat, trying to act like he didn’t hear. I think, maybe, so he could react internally before reacting externally. Ya, know? Trying to remain calm. Then I blurted out loud, “my doctor just told me to go straight to the hospital to be admitted, ASAP”.

Nobody said anything. But the silence was loud.

Silence. Disbelief. Confusion. Fright.

Yet, a knowing.

A promise.

That even in the midst, everything will be okay.

A knowing that God’s Grace abounds in the deepest of waters. Even when you lose sight of His hand and begin to sink, God’s grace abounds.

I’ve always been terrified of having to be admitted to the hospital, again.

I’ve always been terrified of having to have surgery, again.

I’ve always been terrified of how I would respond, voluntarily or involuntarily, whether it be mentally and/or physically.

I’ve been working with my psychiatry and psychology team trying to get a grasp on, or understand just how much trauma is not only mental, but physical. And for me, even more so, due to my physical disabilities.

I break the silence and say, “I’m going home first.“

We get home. I pack a bag. (Coincidentally, I had just organized my colored pencils, coloring books, pencils and pens. Little did I know just how soon that would come in hand.) I just start throwing stuff in the bag, because I’m still really operating in shock. I pack a few pairs of underwear, pajamas, idk, what does one wear in the hospital?! And I only plan to be in there 1-2 max!

We arrive to the ER.

“I am here to be admitted,” I say.

Somehow, I thought, since this was an “arranged meet-cute”, it would be an easy process. The ER point of entry, was crushing, over 8 hours, waiting and sitting in uncertainty.

Dear, Hospitals across America, there has to be a better way.

Anyway, this is really happening. The hospital corridors seemed so long and empty and no pun intended, lifeless. Not a person in sight.

Can I really do this? Will I really be okay?

I’ve been here before. Not here, but here. Unfamiliar but reminiscent. It’s been a while, but not long ago.

Lord, God, be with me.

My therapist once told me, you are like that saying, “if you leave everything in God's hands, you will see God's hand in everything."

It’s actually funny (kind of) because I had just purchased a new note pad to stick on the refrigerator, at the top, Jeremiah 29:11, the familiar Bible verse , “I know the plans I have for you….” It’s funny because, I had managed to write MY plans or to do lists, for Monday and Tuesday of that week, which included my medical appointments and therapy appointments and lab appts. I, for some reason, didn’t quite get to write down my Wednesday plans. And here I was, in the hospital, during the wee hours of Wednesday morning. Which was definitely NOT a part of MY plan. I would not have in a million years thought I’d end up here on this day. But considering my life lately, it checks. Life for me these past few years, have been so inconceivably not my plans and so unbelievably off script.

My script that is.

My life, a few years back, made a sharp left turn and what seems to be, an unending detour away from MY plans. My life, at times, seems so unbelievably uncertain.

But yet, still, somehow, I am 100% certain that God has His hand on me, guiding me, lighting my path, even during the detours.

“Therefore, we do not lose heart. Even though our outward man is perishing, yet the inward man is being renewed day by day.” II Corinthians 4:16

Even though I know God has His hand is on me, I still struggle with desperately trying to understand how I can do what God has called me to do, in this body, my chronically ill body, that He has called for me to use.

His will, my bruised, scarred and fatigued body, sometimes, it just doesn’t make sense. But I’m slowly, yet hurriedly, but also, forcibly learning it’s not supposed to make sense. God’s plan, does not need my stamp of approval. God’s plan, is not supposed to make sense, to me.

God’s plan does not rely on my strength, but His.

God’s plan is divinely sovereign and divinely supreme, and as a matter of fact, that’s exactly why it doesn’t make any sense.

I may not understand it, right now. I may not even know which way God is taking me day by day. But what I do know is this, God is holding my hand and leading the way, and I am doing my best to keep up. At times, I am walking upright behind Him, other times I am running behind Him gasping for breath and at all times, my head is bowed low, knees on the ground, hands outstretched grabbing hold to the edge of His garment.

I know His word to be true, it’s never been me, it’s ALWAYS been Him.

It’s all God, always has been, always will be.

“And He said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness. Therefore most gladly I will rather boast in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me…..For when I am weak, then I am strong.” II Corinthians 12:9-10