My sister, Jeannie, is 36 years old. Most everyone would say that is a vibrant, youthful age to be. But my sister’s story is different than most 36-year-olds. At the age of 15, she had symptoms unusual for a high school sophomore: fatigue, fainting spells, joint pain. My mom was immediately alerted, because of her own medical history. She had my sister tested, and her fears were confirmed. Jeannie was diagnosed with Lupus, the same disease my mom had been diagnosed with 12 years earlier. School was a struggle for her. Every winter, she would succumb to the usual illnesses that her friends fell victim to, but while her friends would bounce back quickly, due to their normal immune systems, my sister found herself unable to shake every virus. She would end up on Homebound. This was only the very beginning of her ordeal. I’m not sure when the nausea and vomiting began. It seems as if she’s always had it. But once it began, it was constant.

As the years passed, more complications and symptoms would crop up, and more diagnoses followed. Understand that this is a simplified synopsis. I would need to write a book to fit in all of my sister’s medical history from the last 21 years. The most prevalent and serious of these diagnoses was Gastroparesis. This was likely brought on by her Lupus. The constant nausea and vomiting occurred, because her digestive system wasn’t working properly. Eventually, parts of her system stopped working altogether, becoming completely paralyzed. My family has traveled thousands of miles, for 21 years, trying to find a cure, or at the very least, a treatment that would grant her some decent quality of life. She was never able to continue her education past high school, to hold down a job. She became an invalid, living her days at my parents home, in her bed. Her body became unrecognizable from the suitcase full of different medications, the weight fluctuations, the hospital stays (too many to count over the last 21 years), and 70+ surgeries. Her veins have been destroyed from so many IVs, she’s down to a port in her femoral artery. Last fall, the “miracle cure” appeared to have been found. A surgeon determined that if he removed most of her stomach and severed the nerve connecting the stomach to the brain, that he could cure her of this disease. At this point, my sister had nothing to lose, so she agreed to the surgery. Amazingly, it worked! For nearly a year, my sister appeared to be cured. She began to do things normal 35-36 year olds would do: find a job, a place to live, hang out with friends, fall in love. The weight was falling off of her at an alarming rate, but blood work looked ok. After a whirlwind romance, she got married in September of this year. But a couple of months later, the nausea and vomiting were back. What this surgeon didn’t know was that the remaining digestive system organs that were left, were still full of the disease and were capable of taking over her body. The Gastroparesis was back, and with a vengeance. At this point, organs were being compromised. She saw a few doctors, but they all had the same clueless response. They could continue to use Jeannie as a guinea pig, but couldn’t offer a real solution. Jeannie heard what the doctors weren’t saying…there was nothing more to be done. When her gastro doctor suggested yet another course of action that would bring about more pain and discomfort in an attempt to make things right again, she asked if he could honestly fix her; if he could make organs that had stopped functioning, work the way they were meant to work. His answer was “No”. Jeannie made the decision to call in Hospice care. 

This brings me to the issue I want to discuss today. I have watched Jeannie’s story play out from the sidelines. I couldn’t be there for most of it, because I had a husband and children to take care of a few hundred miles away, but to some degree, I have suffered along with her and my family. And we have prayed. God KNOWS how we, extended family, and friends, have ALL prayed for healing. Those of you that know her and my family personally know what a stubborn lot we are. Jeannie and my parents believed healing was out there and would find Jeannie eventually, and they were going to fight tooth and nail to make it happen. I don’t know how my sister has existed the way she has for the last 21 years. I really think I would’ve asked God to take me long ago. But not Jeannie. Year after year after YEAR she fought, determined to find healing. But a couple of weeks ago, she decided to welcome The Ultimate Healing. Notice I said WELCOME. I came home to SC to have a heart-to-heart with Jeannie; what I assume will be the last time I see her here on earth. I never, NEVER, heard her utter any words that resembled “giving up”. If she is surrendering at all, it is to God, and for His will to be done. After 21 years of needles, scalpels, and hideous medications, she’s putting her fate in God’s hands. Perhaps I made her doubt when I told her what a strong person I think she’s been for the last 21 years, because when she told me how tired she was and that she wanted the medical community to leave her in peace, she asked, “Does that make me a weak person?” NO. My sister is standing up for herself and telling doctors “no more experimenting”. She is leaving things in the hands of The Great Physician. How powerful!

She is being very positive on Facebook; so much so, that I can’t tell how she really is. Apparently, she’s putting on a happy face on Facebook, because there are people out there telling her that she shouldn’t be giving up. That she needs to stay positive. That she needs to believe more in miracles. That she needs to pray harder. If you are one of those people, let me say this to you right now. STOP IT. You are not helping. Have you ever read the book of Job? Because you sound like one of his friends. Yes, I am angry. I am angry with the self-righteous out there that question another person’s faith. You know not of which you speak. Why do people assume that calling Hospice is a sign of giving up? When my sister asked if this made her a weak person, I said, “You’re going to be healed! You’re going to sit at the feet of Jesus!” In what way is that “giving up”?! I think I’ve had it wrong all these years. Jeannie’s decision to call in Hospice is one of the bravest decisions she’s ever made. She’s deciding to “Let Go, and Let God”, a message I’ve seen on countless bumper stickers, instead of letting the medical community continue to tell her, day after day, year after year, how they think they can fix her. Don’t get me wrong; the medical community has done MANY great things for her over the years, and I’m not trying to diss them. It’s their job to believe that they can fix humans. But some things, only God can fix. 

I’ve said this already on Facebook, that lots of people are awkward in their attempts to comfort those that are in these situations. So far, I’ve offered grace. God knows I’ve said some REALLY stupid things in my 39 years on this planet to people who are sick, hurting, or grieving. Even the most clumsy things are said in a spirit of love and comfort. But to belittle a person’s faith is just plain hurtful and wrong. Tell my sister how much you are praying, along with her, for a miracle, but that you are also praying for God’s will to be done. If God’s will is for The Ultimate Healing to take place, then praise God for that.