We took Brady to a new doctor this week. His "passion" is helping chronic fatigue patients. When we were there and he was asking Brady questions, you could almost see the wheels turning in his head going several miles a minute. It was like he was a puzzle hobbyist and we had brought him a new puzzle, but it was still gift wrapped. I couldn't help thinking that when he gets the test results from all the tests he ordered, that's when the puzzle will be unwrapped and he'll realize it's a Rubik's Cube without the solution manual and maybe he won't be as excited anymore.
I know I should be optimistic. I know that we will learn some good things from him. It's just so very hard to get our hopes up at a doctor's office, after almost three years of visiting them. He was hopeful, though, and I'm glad for his enthusiasm and confidence.
Even though it is hard to get my hopes up when visiting a new doctor (to be honest, it scares us all quite a bit to dive in and let another one "try things out" on us,) my confidence in the Lord gives me the joy and hope that helps me to have peace. God's faithfulness to us keeps shining through moment by moment, day by day.
I was reading through my commonplace book and found this excerpt I'd copied out of The Dean's Watch by Elizabeth Goudge. It goes well with my thoughts today:
"How much more friendly it is when you cannot see, thought Miss Montague, and how much closer we are to Him. Why should we always want a light? He chose darkness for us, darkness of the womb and of the stable, darkness in the garden, darkness on the cross and in the grave. Why do we demand certainty? That is not faith. Why do I want to understand? How can I understand this great web of sin and ugliness and love and suffering and joy and life and death when I don't understand the little tangle of good and evil that is myself? I've enough to understand. I understand that He gave me light that I might turn to Him, for without light I could not have seen to turn. I have seen creation in His light. He shared His light with me that I, turned, might share with Him the darkness of His redemption. Why do I despair? What do I want? If it is Him I want He is here, not only in love in light illumining all that He has made but love in darkness dying for it..."