Sufficiency of the Father
“This is it”, I think to myself. My stomach folds itself in knots as my anxiety erupts through the roof. This is finally the time I’m going to hear, “Your body is failing, and serious diabetic complications are setting in.” These are the words staggering through my mind while I sit in the waiting room for my specialist.
I’ve always dreaded going to the doctor. For years each doctor's appointment resulted in another diagnosis. As a child I was always sick. I remember my mom joking with the receptionist at my pediatrician’s office, “Her file is thick,” when they took a while to locate it.
I recall nebulizer treatments for asthma and antibiotics for infections. The most alarming diagnosis came when I was twelve. After being painfully sick for two weeks, I was finally diagnosed with type one diabetes. I spent several days in the hospital and hastily learned how to keep myself alive with insulin injections on apples and oranges.
Soon after, another diagnosis appeared—chronic Lyme. Then juvenile rheumatoid arthritis followed by Postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome (POTS), nerve damage, and fibromyalgia. Later as an adult, I was diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD), anxiety, and ADHD.
Some days I wear these diagnoses like a badge of honor pinned to my shirt. They are a part of who I am, and they impact everything I do. Other days, I wish I didn’t have labels at all.
As I try to teach my two children not to be ashamed of their own diagnoses, I am also reminded that our diagnoses shouldn’t become our ultimate identity. To stand proud and say that I am diabetic and an “ADHD-er” certainly feels freeing, but first and foremost, scripture says my identity is rooted in being a daughter of the King.
There is nothing more, or less, I can contribute that would add to my worth. No additional diagnosis subtracts from my worth, nor does a good health day add to it. I am not subject to the world’s token economy. I am an image bearer and hold value because of Jesus. The end. Finished. End of story. There is no interjection or to be continued.
“Not that we are sufficient in ourselves to claim anything as coming from us, but our sufficiency is from God.”
2 Corinthians 3:5 (ESV)
As I sit in the waiting room, I am fearful. I am nervous. I put my trust in health rather than the Lord. As I think back, I now realize I wasn’t just worried because of the pain and difficulties of another health problem. I was worried because I didn’t want to be limited any further than I already am.
“I don’t need to operate out of a place of false strength because my weaknesses point people to the power and strength of God.”
As humans we don’t like to feel weak. We don’t like vulnerability, and I am no exception to that. With more health complications, I would require more help. I would need more assistance from others. My independence would be further hindered. But isn’t that the glory of the gospel? In our finite bodies, we can always count on the Father. When we are weary, he is strong. When we have nothing to offer, our faith is credited as righteousness. When we feel weak, His power is made perfect. I don’t need to operate out of a place of false strength because my weaknesses actually point people to the power and strength of God.
I am encouraged that even though the world, and oftentimes myself, see my limitations as barriers to accomplishments, Jesus sees them as a way to be glorified. I am more than a prayer request; I am the daughter of the King of Kings. I was created on purpose and for a purpose. My disabilities do not inhibit this calling and plan for my life, they are a vital part of it. Whether more health complications arise or not, my worth will not change because it is not dependent on what I can or cannot do but rather rests on the sufficiency of the Father.