By Esih Efuru
On my way home a few weeks ago, I reflected on a recent trip to the doctor’s office, where I was diagnosed with adenomyosis, a condition impacting the uterus. Consequently, I would need a hysterectomy, considering my extremely low hemoglobin levels. Naturally, I questioned God’s motives and wanted to know why I had to lose my womb in order to heal. God’s response to me knocked me off of the cracked pavement I trod en route to home base.
God let me lament, and then quietly told me a truth that made me weep all the more. God said to me, “In order to bring you back to life, I needed to take the dead places from within you.” You need a makeover, and this is only the beginning of the rest of you.”
I was stunned silent and my tears continued to cascade as I folded the words over in my mind. Was I really living like an emotional zombie and exhausted at the point of death? Yes, I was. I had grown comfortable in the sting of my skin. In a way, that reality kept me in a casket of safety that blocked the light that God was offering.
Sometimes it takes a loss, death, burial and removal to bring a soul back to life. Since we aren’t born surgeons and don’t have all of the knowledge it would take to comprehend what it is we really want or need, the Creator shows us in our natural life exchanges that he knows the secret to eternal life on earth. Eternal life translates into a state of being that includes 360 degrees of love and light. When we allow God to craft us, and surrender our egos and human intellect, we experience a divine existence that places us directly in the Master’s hands for further exploration.
I smiled later in the evening when I caught on to what God’s words revealed to me. God was bringing me back to life because he loved me and needed me to live so that I could continue my divine assignments. I needed to lose to win, as Fantasia put it. The wonderful thing about losing my womb is that I had a treasure of memories from it, along with a beautiful daughter, that I could take into the future.
I would need certain things removed, and would need time to heal before I took off running again toward my destiny. God further declared that I would experience some pain but not nearly as much as I would if I stayed in the condition I was in. Staying in the comfort zone would surely mean the end of me.
Faith tells me that I can bet on it. If we can release dead things and trust God, we can trade in a troubled past for a bountiful present, a swollen heart for a thriving soul, a weary mind for an empowered resolve. As I approach my surgery, I am encouraged to know that God knows me best, and knows how to trim the excess. Though I do acknowledge some fear, it doesn’t overshadow the joy that comes with knowing the power that God has to make me over and hand me a new purpose to live for.
Esih Efuru, a 45-year-old writer, artist and minister, is raising a daughter in Charlotte, NC. Email her email@example.com
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