My deepest gratitude goes to my niece, Kimberly Rae, for her contribution to the Women of Wisdom articles in May. Kim has always held a special place in my heart for a couple of reasons. First of all, Kim shares the same name as me and she was the flower girl in our wedding. I met her for the first time when she was just three years old. As she grew up and decided to become a missionary she came to New Jersey and we had some very special times with her. Our family supported Kim and prayed for her when she served in Bangladesh and Uganda as a young single missionary. Kim has become a gifted and talented writer and speaker, and she is an advocate for victims of human trafficking. I am honored to know this amazing young woman who truly is a woman of faith and wisdom. 

He Who Trusts in His Own Heart is a Fool

Proverbs 28:26

By Kimberly Rae

 

 

September 2008

Small buzzes, clicks, whirring sounds surrounded me.  I lay flat on my back, in the flimsy hospital gown.  Medical technicians were thinking about the MRI, about the fluid on my brain, about the eeclamptic seizures that had brought me back to the hospital.

I was thinking about death.

Would today be my last day?

I thought of my husband, my little boy, and my new tiny baby daughter.  I thought about all my big goals for my life, goals that had been crippled and marred by chronic health problems—the problems that had brought us home from the mission field, had removed from me all the activities and ministries that had given me identity.  The problems that had, as I saw it, taken away my significance.

Over the past year I had struggled with discontent, a restless need to find something, some way to prove that I was still worthwhile as a person.  I desperately wanted to find something I could still do, some type of work, some type of ministry that would validate my existence.

Yet with each attempt, each new ministry or activity, eventually my health (or lack thereof) would hinder it, would require more help from my husband, would leave me exhausted or sick or both.  I would end up neglecting my family as I used up my energy trying to keep up with the other things.  After all, organizing a missions conference sounds a lot more important than changing diapers.  Leading a Bible study feels more significant than reading stories at bedtime.

Somehow, however, all my efforts had left me feeling more discontent, more insignificant than ever.  It was almost as if God was working against me, allowing me to get sick, forcing me to stay home, leaving me with no option but to say no to great possibilities because I knew I could no longer be dependable in my unpredictable body.

But that day in the hospital, the possibility of it being my last brought a fear more claustrophobic than the MRI machine I was encased in.  What if it really was my last day?  What would I do with it?

All those former seemingly significant priorities I had chased did not come to mind.  All the activities that had given me a false sense of identity lost their appeal in the valley of the shadow of death.

If it was to be my last day, I wanted to spend it loving my husband, loving my children, loving my God.

That was how I wanted to be remembered.  Content.  Unafraid.  No longer striving, chasing after the wind.  I wanted to be remembered as one who loved. Who had joy. Who lived with peace and hope.

And in that moment of light, as the machine whirred and clicked over my head, I had a blazing realization:

If that was how I would want to spend my last day, why wasn’t that how I was spending every day?

If my God and my family were most important, why was I living as if they weren’t?  Why were they taking second place in my day, in my effort, even in my heart sometimes?

All those years, I had been trusting in my own heart and chasing my own dreams. I was a fool, missing the joy God wanted for me because I was trying to get it my own way.

Lying in that MRi machine, fluid on my brain, I prayed, “God, if all I can do with my life is serve my husband and raise my children, I want to stay.  Please let me stay.”

God answered that prayer with a yes.  Later that afternoon, as a neurologist, an emergency-room doctor, and one other “ologist” stood over me, discussing which of two life-threatening treatments to try, they chose the right one.  Eventually I was released from the hospital.  Eventually, I recovered to my version of “normal.”  Eventually I even had enough energy to go right back to struggling with my old addiction: the pull toward proving my own significance.

I continue to be drawn toward proving that I am spiritual by outward show.  Then another health crisis will knock me down, bringing back with startling force that promise I made that day as death faced me head-on.  I made the promise, and I am accountable for that promise before God.

I know that God wants abundant life for each of us (John 10:10).  I am learning, however, that His definition of abundant life is individually tailored, and what He knows will be abundant life for me is far different than what I had ever supposed.

I am meant to live with faith in a God who has chosen not to make me healthy.  I am called to be a shining example of peace, despite not being able to work outside my home or commit to any regular ministry activity, in a world where women feel they must prove their own worth by their talents, or level of busy-ness, or ability to make money. I am meant to help my husband be everything God wants Him to be.  I am meant to raise children who do not compare themselves to the standards of the world, and who are unafraid to face it in Christ’s strength.

That day in the hospital did not turn out to be my last day.  However, one day will be.  When that day comes, I want my restless, discontent spirit to have been replaced by a gentle and quiet one.  I want me to have decreased, and Christ to have increased.  I want those I love to really know they were loved.  Most of all, I want God to be pleased, because I was finally willing to give up my own dreams for His.

Abundant life is less of an urgent, stressful place than I had expected.  It is a place of peace.  Like green pastures and still waters.

It is with Him.  And whether here on this day, throughout my last day, or in eternity, with Him is a beautiful place to be.

April, 2016

Update: I wrote this years ago, and have to admit I still struggle with the desire to chase my own ambitions. I never wanted to be an advocate for doing less and being okay with it! I always knew God’s strength was made perfect in weakness, but I didn’t want to glory in my infirmities so the power of Christ could rest on me (2 Cor. 12:9). But God is patient with me, so patient, and is showing me that His plans for me are always better than my plans are for myself. I am learning continuously to find my significance in Him rather than my level of activities. And, amazingly, in the upside-down way God likes so much, He is allowing me to reach more people now through my writing, than I ever did when I was stressed-out doing things I thought would bring me value and worth. And I get to write in my pjs – you can’t beat that!

My life is defined and limited by disease, pain, and pills, but I would not trade it with anyone. I love being my husband’s wife, my children’s mommy, and a cherished daughter of the King of kings, on assignment to represent Him to a world that is broken like I am.

So my message to other women like me is this: When we trust in our own hearts, we become discontented, frustrated, stressed-out fools. But abundant life is available, if we can set aside our own agendas and let God be in charge. He can be trusted with our lives and our hearts. We can sacrifice our ambitions to Him, and then watch Him do more than we could ask or think. Abundant life might not end up looking like we’d imagined, but if it is ordained by God, it will be good!

 

Kimberly Rae lived in Bangladesh, Uganda, Kosovo and Indonesia before Addison’s disease brought her permanently back to the US. She now writes from her home at the base of the Blue Ridge Mountains, where she lives with her husband and two young children. Rae’s suspense/romance novels on international human trafficking and missions (Stolen Woman, Stolen Child, and Stolen Future) are all Amazon bestsellers. Rae also has a series of books on living joyfully despite chronic illness, including Why Doesn’t God Fix It?, endorsed by Joni Earekson Tada. Find out more, order autographed books, or contact Kimberly at www.kimberlyrae.com.