My Greatest Experience

The medication routine was getting into full swing.  My new way of eating was taking some getting used to.  And now, I just had to learn how to live with a chronic illness.  Oh sure, I had been living with one, with all of the symptoms and struggles, months before an actual diagnosis was made.  But I was too naive to think anything was wrong with me.  Well, now I knew.  I had an illness.  And as I said, it was a chronic illness.  I was going to have to live with this for the rest of my life.

The rest of my life...how many teenagers, how many people even, think about the rest of their life?  The furthest time into the future that I could consider was getting to Christmas and having time out of school for that.  After Christmas passed, I was readying for summer break, so what's the rest of my life supposed to mean?  I couldn't understand that.  How much living could one have done in 14 years to be able to consider life 15 years later, 20, 30, etc?

Sure, I had developed and changed mentally, emotionally, and physically.  But my life experiences were limited to childhood growth.  I had participated in organized sports (basketball).  There was school of course.  And there were the various clubs and activities to envelope one's time and broadened ones view on life.  That was about it for me though.

Except for one big life experience.  (Well, it was and still is big for me.)  Before I begin with this, I want to say that I realize that this is not something that all who read this will agree with or even desire to read about.  However, I make no apologies for what I'm sharing here as my sole desire is to tell of my journey with IBD, the struggles and the triumphs as I view them.  I hope that all who read this, regardless of your stance on this (or any subject matter that is brought up) will read with an openness and not feel a sense of pressure on my part to pull you to accept my views as your own.

Part of my journey started before I even developed symptoms.  This carried through to the diagnosis and even to this very day.  I grew up in a home with a foundation built on God.  My dad is a Baptist preacher.  Even though both him and my mom weren't taken to church on a regular basis during their childhood, they found it of great importance to raise myself and my siblings with more consistent Biblical instruction and worship time.

I met Jesus (of course not face-to-face) spiritually on my 14th birthday.  My thinking is that He chose that day for me because He knows how hard it is for me to remember dates period; so important ones like this would be a challenge for me.  When I got saved, I was alone, in my bed.  No one was speaking to me or prodding me to do or say anything.  It was at night.  And it was just me and Him.  I knew I was missing something or more like someone.  And that Someone was Him and His spiritual presence in my heart.

I'm thankful for this experience that will be with me for the rest of my life.  I've been able to turn to Him on so many occasions since, regarding decisions that needed to be made; a lot of which were in relation to my health.  And other decisions related to...well...life.  I would need Him often as I would live with the struggles of a chronic illness.