I hesitate to write about my health conditions because I don’t want to give the impression that I am either completely decrepit or that my situations are worse than other people’s. Yet I receive so much learning through these experiences; in fact, much of the learning is also where much humility is forged.
Friday was no different as I was once again stuffed into that all-to-familiar MRI tube. The older I get the more claustrophobic I become; therefore, rather than MRI’s becoming easier, they are actually becoming harder. I spend most of my time in that coffin-like tube not really praying but more just repeating “Jesus” over and over while desperately clinging to the “peace that passes understanding” (Phil. 4:7). Still, in between cycles of pictures when the machine is quiet, my mind wanders into places I don’t usually let it go.
Like who do I invite into my fear and suffering? This latest test I shared with my wife and my boss, and that’s it. I didn’t ask for prayer from anyone else or share the burden of the looming fear of confinement with anyone else until after the procedure. Why? I’m not sure; perhaps pride. Perhaps because it gives too much attention to the truth of aging. Maybe both. Plus I don’t want to be seen as a complainer or as a person that fails to recognize the many blessings in my life.
However, I also cut myself off from the lifeline of caring friends and family; friends and family that’ll pray for me and that have genuine concern for me. Friends and family that’ll be there in the sad event of negative test results.
So I ask God for wisdom on what to share, when to share it, and how to share it; and I ask for patience from my friends and family as I figure this out because I anticipate more tests in the future.