A Journey Worth the Struggle
By Sonya Grace Naugle*
My juggling act had come to a screeching halt. An ambulance rushed me to the emergency room. My blood was drawn, and I had an EKG, but the tests revealed nothing serious. After receiving an IV for dehydration, I was sent home with directions to follow up with my primary care physician and cardiologist. I didn’t know it, but it would be months before I could easily get out of bed.
 |
| Unsplash |
It
was on a Sunday morning at church that I knew something was severely
wrong.
As
a pastor’s wife and homeschooling mother of four children aged ten to sixteen,
I had many responsibilities at church and at home—sitting on committees,
attending meetings, mentoring women, managing my household, speaking to groups,
coaching volleyball. I was also traveling 130 miles back and forth to care for
my parents, with my mom living in a group home and my dad battling stage 4
colon cancer. All this was taking a toll on my marriage and family. Still, I
carried on. I had always been one to take care of others’ needs.
I
began experiencing heart palpitations accompanied by dizziness, fatigue, sleep
disturbances, digestive issues, joint and abdominal pain, muscle weakness,
lower than normal blood pressure, and the inability to get over a head cold.
Unfortunately, I kept going—homeschooling, coaching, serving at church, taking
occasional speaking engagements, and traveling three hours each way to care for
my parents.
The
Sunday before Thanksgiving 2013 I went to church as usual. Strangely, I had no
strength to stand up for the singing or even to sing while sitting down. During
the message my heart felt as if it was doing flips in my chest. My oldest
daughter, sitting next to me, saw my face turn pale and my breathing grow
faster and heavier. Suddenly my limbs went limp, and everything went
blank.
My juggling act had come to a screeching halt. An ambulance rushed me to the emergency room. My blood was drawn, and I had an EKG, but the tests revealed nothing serious. After receiving an IV for dehydration, I was sent home with directions to follow up with my primary care physician and cardiologist. I didn’t know it, but it would be months before I could easily get out of bed.
In
the days following my collapse, I visited my primary care doctor and
cardiologist. Neither of them could provide me with answers. Something was
obviously wrong in my body, but I had no diagnosis or treatment plan to
follow.
Days
dragged into weeks. Finally, about a month after my body’s breakdown, I saw a
thread of God’s grace. I visited a healthcare practitioner who read between the
lines of my lab work to see some definite health concerns. After a few more
weeks of waiting for further test results, my practitioner confirmed that I was
dealing with the onset of severe adrenal fatigue, or “adrenal burnout,” as she
called it. This was most likely the result of many years of high-stress
situations that had started in my early childhood.
I
now had a diagnosis. But I had no solution. Heart palpitations led to continual
dizziness. I was incredibly weak and always tired. My limbs felt like dead
weight—I had to physically pick up my legs, one at a time, and put them over
the edge of the bed to try to get up. My healthcare practitioner told me that
my condition was serious and that it would take a long time to recover—not
months but years. The odds of me fully recovering were slim. I felt frustrated
and hopeless. At first I felt as if I was being punished. I had always tried to
eat well, exercise, and keep healthy and strong. But that hadn’t
stopped my body from crashing.
In
our performance-based world, lying in bed isn’t considered resourceful. But I
couldn’t get up, let alone brush my hair and teeth, make meals for my family,
or wash clothes. All that took energy I didn’t have. My body had basically
said, “I’m done.” Two months into my recovery, I held onto my various
responsibilities from a distance, expecting to be back on my feet soon and able
to return to my ministry roles. But after weeks of struggling, it became
obvious that it wasn’t going to happen. Finally I realized that I needed to
surrender everything. My oldest daughter took on household responsibilities and
cared for her siblings, while others filled the voids I had left on church and
para-church committees. If God wanted to resurrect any of it, He could, but I
had to give it all up first.
As
I lay in bed with nothing to do, my mind worked overtime. Hurts from the past
that I thought had been resolved and emotions that I had buried now came
uncovered. With full force they bowled me over with shame, sadness, anger,
fear, and resentment. I also worried about the present—how my sixteen-year-old
daughter would maintain household responsibilities, how my children would be
homeschooled, how shopping and meal prep would be accomplished, how my parents’
pressing medical needs would be cared for, how my inability to function might
create misunderstanding in those closest to me and make it appear as if I were
lazy or unmotivated. Fears about the future haunted me as well: how would we
pay for the supplements, treatments, and tests I now required? What would
happen to my parents as they faced their own health struggles? And worst of
all, would I ever be able to care for my family again?
In
this place of despair, God ministered to my heart in a way I had never
experienced before. While the exhaustion told me I was finished, God told me,
“You’re staying in this bed until you learn what I want to teach you, because I
need your full attention.” I was sidelined, but God was just getting started. I
didn’t know it, but God was going to use this season to revive my soul and body
from many chaotic years and toxic experiences.
As
I lay in bed, I began to fill the pages of my journal. Writing was difficult,
since having lights on or sitting up in bed increased my dizziness. But I
prayed, “God, if You want me to write, You’ll give me the strength to hold this
pen and sit up.” And He did just that. As I learned to listen for His voice,
God taught me some unexpected lessons. Relying on the Holy Spirit
for guidance, I wrote down what I heard God saying to my heart as I prayed
through my affliction and meditated on His Word. As I looked at my struggles in
light of who God is and the relationship I have with Him as one of His
children, I experienced His presence in surprising new ways. Though my circumstances
didn’t change for many months, I began
to change, and I found great treasures in the darkness.
Grappling
with worry, shame, rejection, and fear taught me some powerful truths. First, I
learned above all else that God’s presence was with me. I was not alone! I
would get through this. Knowing that God loved me as His own precious child
brought me peace. I also discovered that God’s promises are true and
trustworthy, even when I didn’t feel them. I had to lean into His promises and
take them as my own—and I did. Amazingly, as I grew in trust, I saw God’s
provision—our expenses were somehow paid, my children’s homeschooling carried
on, my family had meals on the table and all their daily needs met, and my
parents survived their struggles as they learned to trust God and lean on each
other.
My
trial wasn’t over in a moment—it lasted many months, and its residual effects
still continue today. But those months in bed weren’t wasted time; in them God
was at work, healing my body, soul, and spirit and drawing me closer to Him. My
trial was not a punishment but rather a present from the Lord: it slowed me
down and gave me the solitude I needed to draw closer to Him. As I focused on
the Lord, He spoke new life to my soul. Not only that, but He also gave me a
new purpose, including the call to write books and to blog that He had planted
in my heart many years previously. It was extremely difficult for me to be
patient with the process and give myself permission to be still, but it was
well worth it.
God
had a plan in my pain, and He has a plan in yours as well. Press into Him and
His promises. He can turn your pain into praise.
Sonya Grace Naugle is just an ordinary girl with a God-given purpose to encourage individuals through their hardships with a message of faith, hope, and love. Having endured her own heartache from a broken, wounded childhood and a chronic health condition, Sonya has learned firsthand to trust God and hear His voice through life’s hard places.
As a speaker and writer, Sonya comes alongside individuals struggling through all walks and seasons of life and provides them encouragement from the comfort she has received from God through her own life’s struggles (see 2 Cor. 1:3–4). Sonya is a dedicated wife, mother of four, and grandmother of two. She is also a registered nurse, having earned her degree from Alvernia University. Sonya has a bachelor of science in Bible from Lancaster Bible College. Combining her education with a heart of compassion and a hand of tender mercy, Sonya serves alongside her husband, Nathanael, in full-time pastoral ministry to provide help and hope for individuals and families within their congregation and community nestled in the rolling hills of southeastern Pennsylvania.
Follow her on Facebook: https://www.facebook.
*This post is excerpted with permission from Whispers of God’s Love: Forty Days of Hope-Filled Messages to Lift the Troubled Soul by Sonya Grace Naugle, 2019.
Comments