By Karen Pashley

I’ve always considered myself to be a woman of deep faith. A woman who loved God and would trust Him no matter what twists or turns I might encounter on my journey.

Then, seven years ago, my life took a major detour when I was diagnosed with Meniere’s Disease.

A somewhat rare condition, Meniere’s is a progressive, degenerative condition with no known cause or cure that causes hearing loss, ringing in the ear, and sudden attacks of violent vertigo. The vertigo hits with no warning. The intensity of an attack is difficult to articulate and unlike what most people associate with the word vertigo. Suffice it to say, it is torture.

The room spins, my eyes twitch back and forth (a condition called nystagmus), I am pinned to one position, often on all fours on the floor. Movement of any sort is impossible, and I must keep still, not even able to move my lips or hands less the spinning increases. Severe vomiting accompanied by flushing heat and alternating shivering lasts several hours until I am too weak to hold my own head up. Any light or sound in the room only magnifies the symptoms. Mercifully, the attack ends in extreme exhaustion, and I fall into deep (though still very dizzy and unable to move) sleep for four to six hours.

Over the years, despite my best efforts to control the condition with medication, diet and lifestyle changes, the attacks became increasingly more severe, more frequent, and my overall wellbeing between the attacks was declining.

I’ve followed the Lord for many decades, and I’ve come to know Him as a compassionate, loving God, who has the power and desire to heal us physically, emotionally, mentally, and in our relationships—God is a faithful healer, the Great Physician.

So why then, in all my crying out and all my suffering, was my Healer not healing me? Why would He sit by and allow this condition to rob me of so much? I was in the prime of life—I took excellent care of myself. I had goals and dreams, a family to care for, and a half-finished manuscript for a novel waiting to be completed. My desperate cries during an attack bordered on panic. “God, help me,” I would whisper in the darkness.

Oddly, it was during one of the most severe attacks that I experienced the peace that passes all understanding, and somehow, in the midst of my suffering, my hope was renewed.

As tears ran down my cheeks, I thought, “God, I’m all alone in this dark pit. Why won’t you rescue me?”

I sensed Jesus saying, “I know your pain. I’ve experienced torture, and I understand your terror. I’m here in this dark pit with you, and I won’t leave you. Take my hand and we will walk through this pit together.”

Okay, so the God of the universe, who had the ability to heal me in a nanosecond was saying, “let’s walk this difficult walk together”. I could have questioned that offer. I could have argued my point—that His own Word said He was my healer, and I wanted healing—I deserved healing!

But something inside me chose to yield my desperate need for physical relief and to trust that the One who created me, and knew me, had a reason and a plan for me that was good.

In short, I chose hope.

What I learned that day, and the many days that followed, is that hope is not a bet we place. It is not our wishes and dreams pinned to a desired outcome.

Hope is in the person—Jesus Christ, the author and finisher of our faith. Hope cannot fail us, because Christ in us Is the Hope of Glory.

I continued on with the journey, experiencing ups and downs in my illness, and in my personal life, all the while knowing that Hope would not let me down. Last summer, I had a procedure done that has halted the progression of the illness for the time being. The reprieve allowed me to finish and publish my novel, which not coincidentally, is a story of God’s merciful love, unfailing grace, and the hope we have when we trust Him through our darkest days.

I know now that my journey through the pit has equipped me to share hope with others through my books, blog and speaking to women around the country. I thank the Lord every day for continuing to hold my hand through the storms of life.

Hope is our greatest resource, and in Him we have all we need to thrive.

About Karen Pashley:

Karen Pashley writes and speaks with wit and candor about relevant, often gut-wrenching topics that resonate with women of all ages. Her new novel Precious in His Sight is hailed as “a story of betrayal, heartbreak, and reconciliation with unrelenting themes of grace, forgiveness, and Christian duty” by Publishers Weekly. A mother to four amazing young women, and grandmother to one perfect toddler, Karen lives with her husband and youngest daughter in Nashville, Tennessee, where they enjoy the rich culture, glorious landscapes, and the occasional celebrity sighting. Read more at  http://www.karenpashley.com/fiction/

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