When I shared my testimony at church a few weeks ago, I never could have imagined that God would have used it in the ways that he has.  I have been connected with people, I have been encouraged by people, and I have been blessed by people.  When I’ve been asked to share my testimony in the past, I normally either decline politely or skirt around the difficult parts.  It’s easy to make a testimony that sounds like life is all butterflies and rainbows (it’s also rather short), and it’s easy to give that testimony.  It’s infinitely harder to talk about the parts of your life that you’re ashamed of, the parts that you wish were different, the parts that are difficult.  But it’s those parts of my life that have made me who I am today.  I would not be the same person if I didn’t have CF.  I wouldn’t be where I am, and I wouldn’t be who I am.  I wouldn’t have gotten the opportunity to share my story with people, and impact their lives, and they in turn impact mine.

True, I can’t walk into church now without someone asking me how I’m doing, but is that so bad?  The body of Christ should be asking, praying, seeking, healing, and encouraging people.  The body should accept and help those who are hurting – physically, mentally, socially, spiritually.  The body should be going, teaching, healing, reaching people for God.  I’ve seen a whole new side of God’s grace in these past few weeks.  I’ve seen Him encourage through people, speak through people, and love through people.  I’ve seen Him bless people through me, encourage people through me, and speak to people through me.  That makes it seem better, that I’ve gone through these hard times, and it makes it seem justified – that he can use me through my weakness and my story.

I will never know completely the impact that my story has had on people.  I may never know what God has done through me in every situation.  But I do know this – that whatever I say, whatever I do, wherever I go for Him, He will use it for His glory.

I don’t have it all together.  I’m not perfect.  I slip up, I fall, I fail.  I stumble, I cry, I hurt.  I don’t have it all together.  But I know that through God’s all sufficient grace that I will press on, I will run the race, and I will finish.  Not by my own power, but by the power given to all people by His love and mercy.

Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us.  Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.  Hebrews 12:1-2

Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance.  Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete not lacking in anything.  James 1:2-4

Given at NSCBC on Sunday, July 3, 2011

——————————————————————————————————

I was born in the summer of 1990 to a young couple eager to start a family with their new baby girl.  They soon found that the dream was not all they had hoped for.  I wasn’t gaining weight, and so the doctors started to do a battery of tests on my young self, and soon exhausted the possibilities they thought could be wrong with me.  One doctor finally decided to try one more test, as a last resort, thinking that it was very, very unlikely.  This test came back positive, indicating that I had a genetic disease called Cystic Fibrosis, or CF for short.  CF is a disease that mainly deals with a patient’s lungs, pancreas, stomach, and liver.  It makes it difficult to breathe, and in that way it’s a little bit like asthma but with lots more complications.  There is no cure, only treatments to help prolong life and increase the quality of life.

In the days and weeks following, my parents learned the difficult truth – I would always have trouble breathing and eating and probably wouldn’t be very strong, and that I had a life expectancy of around 28 years.  As medicine and technology have advanced in recent years, the life expectancy has risen to nearly 36 years.  That’s a tough pill to swallow at any age, and my parents took it well, I think.  They brought me up in the church, they loved me and took care of my medical needs as well as my social and spiritual needs to the best of their ability.   I am so grateful to them for raising me as they did, and for never letting my disease stand in my way.

At a very young age, around 5, I came down to my father sitting at the kitchen table, reading the Easter story from the gospel of Luke.   I asked him what he was reading, and he told me.  He also explained what it meant to have a relationship with Jesus, and I said, “Daddy, I want that too.”  And then and there I accepted Christ as my Savior and my God.  Since that day, I have grown and matured in my faith, and am extremely thankful to those who have helped me along the way and will help me in the future.

In early elementary school, my parents gave me charge of my medications (which are numerous and taken at different times during the day), and I took great care to do as the doctors directed and soon I knew more about my meds and my condition than my parents.  It was about then that I began wrestling with the life expectancy stamp that the doctors had given me.  It is, like I said before, a difficult thing to come to grips with regardless of your age.  I definitely didn’t solve all of my issues with this until, well, never.

Over the course of these years, I’ve spent countless hours in doctor’s offices, in hospitals, hooked up to medications on an IV, taking more oral medications than I count, and explaining countless times that no, I do not have something that you can catch, and no, I cannot take a cough drop to get rid of it.  I have spent countless sleepless nights trying to figure out the best way to tell my friend that I have an incurable disease, to tell my boss why I need an entire week off of work, to explain to my professors that I’m going to be out of classes for a week to get IV meds in the hospital, to explain to people why I feel so alone and helpless, worthless and unimportant.

I have been angry with God at times, even disappointed, if you will, with the way my life has turned out as compared to everyone else’s.  Every time that anger or disappointment with God has surfaced, God has used other people to show me the things that he can use me for.  It’s not that my life is more difficult because I did something wrong, or my parents sinned.  God has allowed this to happen in my life because he wants to use me for something greater than myself.  God has a plan for the difficulties I’ve faced in my life and the ones I’ll face in the future.

Sure, my life seems less than ideal.  I don’t enjoy spending seven weeks of my summer in and out of the hospital.  I don’t enjoy explaining to TSA personnel that I’m carrying medical equipment and that their sensors are going to go off and they will have to hand check my bag (they never take my advice.  They always just let the silly sensor go off).  I don’t know how to easily let my friends and professors know that the plans they’re making for 50 years in the future don’t necessarily apply to me.  I don’t like being turned down for jobs because of my condition.  I don’t like being told by people that I thought cared about me that I’m worthless because I’m going to die young.  I wish my life were different sometimes, yes.  But I know that God has it under control.  I know that he has it all in his plan, and that he will use my disease for his glory. He already has.  I shouldn’t be able to sing, or to swim.  But he has granted me the strength to do these things, and to excel at them.  He’s allowed me to use my story to change people’s lives.  He’s given me hope and grace, mercy and peace, more than I ever could have hoped for.

A particular instance in which I was able to really put my finger on God using me and my story was when I was on La Vida before my freshman year at Gordon.  I was able to transfer all of my meds that needed electricity to battery powered, or otherwise.  I wanted to do this, and I’m so glad I did.  There were definitely bumps along the way – I ran out of one medication and one of my machines quit working a few days in.  I was pushed to my limit, but God strengthened me.  I was sitting on solo, contemplating life, and God gave me peace about everything I was struggling with, with respect to my CF.  The next night, when we were back together with the entire group, although I did not want to, God compelled me to declare to my team and my peers, with God as my witness, that whenever I had said all he wanted me to say, done all he’d wanted me to do, and gone all the places he’d wanted me to go, then God, take me home.  It hit me, what I was saying and I broke down crying.  One of my friends on the trip came over to me and said, “It’s okay to be scared.  It’s alright.  We’re here with you, and we’ll support you.”  I realized then that I couldn’t do anything alone.  I’d tried to for so long, but I needed their help and their support.  I had many people come up to me that night and say that they were touched by my story and thanking me for sharing.  Since La vida, I’ve been more willing to put myself out there and to be willing to be hurt, to be willing to be rejected for my disease, and to ask for help.  I have been so blessed here at NSCBC to be a part of the choir.  They feel like a family to me and I am so grateful for their acceptance and their prayers, their love and their friendship.

One of my favorite songs is ‘In Christ Alone.’  I love the story that it tells, but I especially love the last verse – No guilt in life, no fear in death, this is the power of Christ in me.  From life’s first cry to final breath, Jesus commands my destiny.  No power of hell, no scheme of man, can ever pluck me from his hand, till he returns, or calls me home, here in the power of Christ, I’ll stand.  It’s in that power I want to serve; it’s in that power I want to love; it’s in that power I want to give, and it’s in that power that I can, so that in all things God may be praised through Jesus Christ.  I’m not going to stand here and say that I’m not afraid of death, but I have more to live for than that.  I’m not just a person with an early expiration date, I’m a powerful tool for God’s kingdom here on earth, and I’m willing to be used as such.  I want to be a servant of God all the days of my life, no matter how many of them I have left.

I thank you for letting me into your lives and for giving me this opportunity to share, and I challenge you to look at your own life, and to examine how God can use you, and how you can serve, even in the circumstances where you feel most useless.  I pray that you will continue to be used as his vessels and that you will daily bring glory to him through all that you say and do.

Praise be to God, who is amazing and powerful, and whose worth is not defined by our success on this earth, but by what he has already done for us.

It’s funny how things don’t normally turn out the way you think they will, or should.  We can have a plan all we want, but that plan may (and often will) change.  I was reminded of this yesterday as the plans I had for my afternoon were changed in an instant, but not necessarily in a bad way.  I had worked 6-11 am at the pool and then ran some errands and around 2 walked over to the science building to do some research work for six or more hours.  I ran into the lab instructor and classroom instructor for the general chemistry class that I’m the ta for at the moment and they asked if I could help out during the lab that day because the students were struggling with the concept.  I said that I could, even though it meant giving up what I had wanted to do that afternoon.  I helped out in the lab, and it was one of the most rewarding experiences I’ve ever had in the years I’ve ta’d here.  When students walk in not knowing anything about Lewis dot structures, and molecular modeling, and walk out with understanding (perhaps not a complete understanding, but very near to one), it is rewarding.  I had a review session scheduled last night too, and even though it was only scheduled to go until eight pm, I stayed and worked with one of the students until almost ten o’clock.  Again, it was a rewarding experience to see this student understand what he/she was learning, and to see that lightbulb click on.

So yes, it wasn’t how I had planned to spend my afternoon, but it was a completely different, probably better and more important experience.  I had helped students understand, and I had been back where I love to be – teaching, learning from the students and the professors, helping hands-on, and seeing things click for students.  I never realized how much I love teaching and seeing people understand what they are being taught.  I love doing research, yes, and learning that way, and seeing it when it works, and the process – I love everything about it.  But I also love teaching (I don’t mind grading either).

I don’t know what the future holds for me, but I know that my plans can change in an instant, as they did yesterday.  I know that God has it all under control, and he meant for that to happen yesterday, and to teach me something through it.  I know that he has a plan for my life and will follow it through to completion, and that when it is my time, he will take me home.

*******

God, when I’ve done all you’ve wanted me to do, say all you’ve wanted me to say, gone all the places you’ve wanted me to go, take me home.

*******

I’d imagine that anyone out there has voiced these questions at some point in their lives, but for me (and others like me) they take a slightly different turn.

My pchem professor began class at 6:55 this morning by asking us (a group of five juniors and seniors) what we would measure as a successful life.  Our responses were quite profound for it being that early in the morning.  Some people said that they saw it as having a steady income and a family, others said that they knew the ‘sunday school’ or ‘worldly’ answers.  I responded by saying this: “I want to make someone else’s life better than my own.”

For a long time now, I’ve thought about what I wanted my life to count for and what I want people to say about me when I’m gone.  I’ve thought about my motivations of going into research and what I hope to accomplish by doing  so.  I’ve thought about the people I want to impact and those who come after me who will have CF.  I’d never wish this life on anyone, but if it has to happen, I want them to live a better life than I have.  For me, that reality comes through research and development of drugs and gene therapies and new innovations not yet known.  I hope that I’m able to see the fruits of my labor in science, but I know that that may not be possible, in fact, it’s unlikely.  Research takes so long to get down the pipeline, so realistically, I will never know what success looks like here.

So many questions have bounced around in my head for weeks, months now, really.  Am I going to be able to do research after grad school?  Am I even going to be healthy enough to do what I love?  Especially after this last summer, I’ve been questioning alot about my life, my goals, the limits of my health, and my dreams.  Yeah, I’d love to be able to fall in love with someone and have a family.  I’d love to be able to have a job that I love, a career that brought me fulfillment.  I’d love to be able to have meaningful friendships that enhance both my life and my friend’s life.  I’d love to be able to dream big and to even hope for 20 or even 30 years in the future.

But I can’t.  There’s something in my head that stops me from hoping for any of this.  There’s something that puts up a brick wall so fast that I don’t know what hit me.  That wall becomes the great wall of china, and it feels like it wraps around my entire life so tightly that I can’t even turn around.  I can’t even hope for a family knowing what boys have told me in the past and how they’ve hurt me.  They’ve made me question if anyone could ever love me.  I can’t hope for a job that I love and can succeed at when there are so many barriers standing in my way , not the least of which is health.  I have meaningful friendships now, but after college?  From past experience, they’re just going to go off and save the world from destruction and forget all about me.  I can’t hope for the future because I can’t see past tomorrow.  I can’t hope for 20 or 30 more years knowing the statistics of life expectancy.

So what?  Do I give up and leave it all to other people?  Or do I fight to break down that wall one brick at a time?  There are some days that I want to give up, many days that I don’t think I can do it.  But God is always there to provide encouragement and sustain me.  Even when I don’t feel like I can do it, even when I question his purpose for my life, even when I hit the great wall of china again and again, God is there.  And it’s not easy every day to thank him and praise him for giving me life.  But as long as I am here, I’ll keep going and live every day to its fullest potential.  I’ll step outside of myself and make someone else’s life better not by science, but by an encouraging word or a helpful hand.

Praise be to God, who is amazing and powerful, and whose worth is not defined by my success on this earth, but by what he has already done for us.

Stronger, by Mandisa

Hey, heard you were up all night
Thinking about how your world ain’t right
And you wonder if things will ever get better
And you’re asking why is it always raining on you
When all you want is just a little good news
Instead of standing there stuck out in the weather

Oh, don’t hang your head
It’s gonna end
God’s right there
Even if it’s hard to see Him
I promise you that He still cares

When the waves are taking you under
Hold on just a little bit longer
He knows that this is gonna make you stronger, stronger
The pain ain’t gonna last forever
And things can only get better
Believe me
This is gonna make you stronger
Gonna make you stronger, stronger, stronger
Believe me, this is gonna make you …

Try and do the best you can
Hold on and let Him hold your hand
And go on and fall into the arms of Jesus
Oh, lift your head it’s gonna end
God’s right there
Even when you just can’t feel Him
I promise you that He still cares

‘Cause if He started this work in your life
He will be faithful to complete it
If only you believe it
He knows how much it hurts
And I’m sure that He’s gonna help you get through this

When the waves are taking you under
Hold on just a little bit longer
He knows that this is gonna make you stronger, stronger
The pain ain’t gonna last forever
In time it’s gonna get better
Believe me
This is gonna make you stronger

Spring break is a tease.  You get an entire week  (sometimes more) off, and then you get thrown back into the craziest last half of a semester that there is.  It’s full of papers and projects and exams and professors trying to get everything in before the last day of classes.  And then you have final exams.  Lovely fun.  And in the midst of all of this you’re supposed to be juggling work (three jobs for me) and homework, research and presentations at conferences, for seniors – grad school and graduation plans, the list just goes on and on.

So what does this teach you, what is the point of going through this fun time?  To build character, to learn more about not only the subject you’re studying, but about yourself as well, to learn to balance all the things life throws at you, to grow.  There’s probably so much more I’m missing, but I think those are the things that stick out to me that I’ve learned in college.  It builds character – it’s important to realize that you have the right to make your own decisions, but the consequences of those decisions fall right back on you.  If you stay up until three in the morning gabbing with your friends and have an eight am class, you’re going to be tired.  And you’re going to have to deal with that.  College is a time of learning, yes, about your chosen discipline, but it is also about learning more about yourself.  In my first semester of college, I learned that if I didn’t take care of myself, I was going to end up sick.  I learned that even though I didn’t like some of the people on my floor, I still had to learn to live with them.  I learned that I needed to remove myself from the textbooks that I so often took refuge in and get out of my room.  I learned that people care.  A lot.  When I was in the hospital my freshman year, I was hospitalized 13 hours from home, and so had no immediate family around.  My dad drove up to help check me in but then he had to go back home to go to work.  There didn’t pass a day when I was there that someone from Gordon didn’t come visit me.  Often, I had two, three, even seven people in  my room, and I was blown away by the love that they showed me, just by coming to visit me.  I learned that I need people.  In college you learn (or should learn) balance.  I had to learn to balance time studying with time spent hanging out with friends.  I had to learn to balance swim practice with class schedules and homework.  I had to learn to balance three jobs on top of all of that.  It’s still a learning process, and I’ll never be perfect at it, but it’s something you learn when it’s all thrown at you at once.  College is, finally, a time of growing.  Growing in intellectual knowledge, growing in the knowledge of yourself, growing spiritually, growing.  I’ve grown so much over my time at Gordon College, in every way.  Sometimes that growing isn’t easy.  Sometimes it is.  But it is necessary.  I wouldn’t be the same person today if I hadn’t grown during college.

Now, I”m a junior.  So I’ve still got another year of this craziness.  And being a double major in chemistry and biology, my life is pretty busy.  I’ve been so blessed to learn and grow throughout the last few years I’ve had at Gordon, and I know that God will continue to do great things there.

May the grace and peace of our Lord be with you always.

So obviously from my previous posts and from the name of my blog, I swim.  I also sing.  I love singing on the worship team at church (both my church at home and my church at school), to sing in the choir at church, and to sing special music.  I enjoy the opportunity to bring music to people, whatever their age, whatever their status of belief in God.  I don’t want the praise for myself – I sing for Christ, I sing to bring glory to Him who gave me this gift in the first place.  I sing to touch hearts.

I sang this morning, on worship team, and special music.  During second service, we were singing Before the Throne of God Above, and I was overcome by the sound of people singing out the name and the praise of God.  I stopped singing to just listen to the response of the congregation.  It was beautiful and powerful.

For special music, I sang the song listed as the title of this post, by Jeremy Camp.  It’s a powerful song about how one day there will be a place where all of the worries of this world will be washed away, and we’ll be where there are no more tears, no more pain, and no more suffering.  I chose this song because it’s a song of hope, a song that reminds us that this earth isn’t the end, and that even in all of the troubles and trials here, there’s something better coming.

The pastor of my church, Pastor Gary, knows that I have CF, and back at Thanksgiving, he asked me that if sometime I’d allow people to know.  He said that the words I sang or spoke would have so much more meaning if people knew a little bit about what God has done in my life.  I consented, and when I got up to sing this morning, I had no idea that he would make good on that word today.  Before I sang, he said, “In a minute you’re going to hear a young lady sing, with a beautiful voice, but there’s something she gave me permission to say a while ago that I’d like to share with you.  Kristen has cystic fibrosis, which if you know anything about it, it affects her lungs, which makes it even more incredible that she can sing.  So today as she shares, let this be a reminder that we should remember to pray for her and thank God for what He has done through her and in her life.  As we give of our tithes and offerings, she’s going to share the gift that God has given her.”  Now, this was completely unexpected, and probably isn’t the way I would have chosen to announce that I have a life-shortening disorder, but nevertheless, it was how God planned it.  I sang the song and could feel the words affecting me and I began to cry.  As tears escaped my eyes, I noticed that there were others in the congregation who were also emotionally affected.  I’d never felt the words as powerful as then, when God was speaking through me.  It’s not about me, it’s about what He does through me.  I’m so blessed to have a church who is willing to pray for me, to uplift me, and to accept me as I am.  There were so many people today who came to me after the service and thanked me for singing and for allowing God to do such great things through me.  There was one woman who was visiting the church for the first time, and she told me that she was so blessed by the song, and that even if she never saw me again, whenever she remembered, she would pray for me.  That means so much to me.

I was so blessed by something that I couldn’t control today – God had it all in His plan.  I cannot wait for the day when I can see Jesus face to face, but until that day, I will live for Him and bring glory to His name in any manner possible – in the pool, in song, or in any other way God sees fit.

~There will be a day~

I’ve  been pondering this statement a lot lately.  It comes from a song that we are singing in church choir.  When we sang it on Sunday, it really hit me that God does know our burdens and that He cares.  He cares so much that He took everything upon himself, and made Himself nothing, subjecting Himself to death – even death on a cross.  Even when we feel like our world is crashing down around us, or the waves of sorrow are crashing at our doors; even when we feel like there’s no one else that knows or cares, when the snow piles up so high that you can’t see over it; even when your next step seems uncertain, even when you walk out all alone; even when you don’t understand, even when disaster strikes and tragedy looms over our heads – God is there.  He knows the burdens we carry, He comforts us in our pain, He lifts us up when we aren’t able to pick ourselves up, He cares.  Even when it feels like no one gets it, like no one understands what you go through every day, every hour, every minute, the things you struggle with and the temptations you truly wrestle with, He is there.

I know it’s hard to feel His presence sometimes, I know it’s hard to believe.  Trust me, I’ve been there.  I’ve been so far down in the dumps that there is only one person who can pull me back up.  I’ve been so consumed with myself that I forgot what I really live for.  I’ve been so angry at the world that I’ve blocked God out and tried to do it all on my own.  Sometimes it takes more than a gentle whisper in my ear or a light tap on my shoulder for God to get my attention.  I’m sure you know what that’s like.  Sometimes even the fireworks God sends don’t work.  But every time, He gets through to me, and I realize that what I’ve thought I’ve been doing alone, on my own – God has been there the whole time, walking beside me, and holding my hand.  Even the darkest valleys, even on the highest mountains, even on the difficult climb to the top, slipping and sliding my way back down and then up again, God is there.  He is always there.

Why is it so difficult for us to let go, surrender our will and let God take control?  Why is it so hard to realize that

we were never in control in the first place?  If there’s anything I’ve learned over the past few years, it’s to take nothing for granted, to fully rely on God in everything, and to trust Him that He knows what’s best for me at this point in time, where I am.  I’m so thankful that God meets me where I’m at, and that He has given me life, another day to serve Him.

If it sounds like I’ve got it all together, and my life is all in order, think again.  I’m not perfect, I don’t have it all together, and I am in desperate need of God, my savior to pull me from this pit daily.  I’ll leave you today with the lyrics to a powerful song by Casting Crowns, At Your Feet.

Here at Your feet, I lay my past down
My wanderings, all my mistakes down
And I am free

Here at Your feet, I lay this day down
Not in my strength, but in Yours I’ve found
All I need, You’re all I need

Jesus, Jesus, at Your feet
Oh, to dwell and never leave
Jesus, Jesus, at Your feet
There is nowhere else for me
There is nowhere else for me

Here at Your feet, I lay my future down
All of my dreams, I give to You now
And I find peace, I find peace
[ From : http://www.elyrics.net/read/c/casting-crowns-lyrics/at-your-feet-lyrics.html ]
Here at Your feet, I lay my life down
For You my King, You’re all I want now
And my soul sings…

‘Cause I am free (here at Your feet)
All I need (is at Your feet)
I find peace
We’re at Your feet
We’re at Your feet

And I am free (here at Your feet)
All I need (is at Your feet)
I find peace
We’re at Your feet
We’re at Your feet
We’re at Your feet
We’re at Your feet

Here at Your feet
I lay my life down

-Kristen-