It's true what they say, and then some.Having a chronic illness changes everything.

Having a chronic illness changes friendships, romantic relationships, career aspirations and plans, family dynamics, lifestyle choices, physical abilities, travel plans, mental and emotional well-being, and in my case, even personal faith.

In some ways, it’s my Christian faith that gets me through the toughest of times and helps me keep my head above water. But in others, it’s my faith that makes this journey even more complicated.

It’s ironic that the same verses and words, the same lyrics that I find solace in also cause me feelings of confusion and conflict, feelings of doubt and questioning.In some moments, my faith gives me hope, it gives me something to believe in, and it keeps me pushing forward to the next day; but in other moments it leaves me frustrated, cursing the verses pasted on my wall and tattooed on my body, questioning everything I've ever believed in.

I don’t know why chronic illness and health issues are a part of my story. I don’t know why I haven’t received the healing I pray for. It's something I spend a fair amount of time thinking and praying about, without any specific clarity.

Then, in church last week week, the pastor talked about believing in miracles; really, truly honestly believing that they can happen right here before our eyes, in our lives and in the world around us. And this turned out to be a lot more convicting than I would have guessed.I say I believe in God and I believe in miracles, but suddenly I’m realizing maybe I really don’t. Here's the thing - I boldly believe in and pray for miracles in other people's lives. I have held families hands as they prayed for healing for their young child, fully believing it was possible and that God would rescue them from their suffering. But right now, today, if you told me I would go to bed tonight and wake up tomorrow completely healed and cured and no longer in need of any treatments, I would probably laugh. Cause yeah, that’s clearly not happening. So I guess, digging a little deeper, maybe I really don’t have the bold kind of faith that believes in miracles. Because what kind of faith is that if it doesn’t hold true in the context of my own life?!I do believe that God has amazing plans for my life and ways to use me far beyond what I can comprehend - but it can be hard to see how this suffering is allowed by that same God who, I'm told, loves me more than I could ever make sense of. I know this suffering is nothing compared to what some are faced with - but this is nonetheless a daily physical, mental, and emotional battle.I guess I do believe, deep down, that He is good and I do believe that He is faithful- but it can be incredibly hard to see how all of *this* mess and struggle is a part of all of that.The same pastor, in the same sermon, also said that " sometimes to SEE the miracle for yourself, you first have to BE the miracle for someone else". And it's been weighing heavy on my heart ever since I heard those words.

You see, a few years ago I started praying bolder prayers. I stood up at a worship event when they asked the audience who wanted to go deeper in their faith, who wanted to start letting the Lord use them as a vessel, as a light in a dark world. And as I stood hand in hand with my best friend, I meant it. Wholeheartedly. I started saying things like “here I am Lord, send me” and actually meaning it. “Take me deeper than my feet could ever wander,” I sang over and over and over with tear filled eyes.Fast forward 3 years and somehow I ended up here. So perhaps, as it turns out, those bold kind of prayers don’t come with takesies backsies [ oops, pray carefully ;) ]

So maybe this is exactly the kind of deep and dark place I was intentionally sent to. Maybe this is the mountain I was assigned to climb. Maybe this is the valley I was meant to learn to climb out of. Maybe this is even what I prayed for unknowingly? I’m not sure why. Maybe to learn to be a more compassionate healthcare provider. Or maybe to be a burning light for others, to spread hope, to inspire strength. Maybe to help empower others fighting the same battles. And if that’s the case, I just hope I see Him someday and finally hear “well done, my good and faithful servant. Well done, Sarah”

There's a lot I still don't know. The list of questions I have is long, and the answers don't seem to be getting much clearer.This I do know: He has gone before me and carefully planned every stepping stone of the path. I don't know if my personal healing or redemption will happen here on earth or if it will be fulfilled in heaven, but I cling to the fact that He has written the end of this story, and He has promised that above all, it will be good. And if, through these experiences and struggles I can somehow bring glory to His name or bring people to know Him, I will be so thankful.

If someday, somehow I can be the miracle that someone else needs to see, I will be thankful and humbled to be used in such a big way.If I wake up tomorrow healed and healthy, I will be thankful.

And if not, He is still good.And if not, I will still praise His name.