faith unfaded

When my doctor reviewed the results of my neck MRI, the news was complex. I realized I could receive it in two very different ways.

I could hear: My neck is deteriorating. I’m going to have pain for the rest of my life. My quality of life is going to suffer.

Or I could hear: My neck needs additional care. Some things will require adjustments, but I can still live a full, joyful life.

The diagnosis doesn’t change. But my response to it can change everything.

I have two completely degenerated discs above a previous cervical fusion. The doctor and I agree that we’d prefer a less invasive course of treatment to surgery.

And, of course, prayer.

It will mean making adjustments, building strength, listening to my body, and knowing when to stop.

And sometimes that means stopping something I’m thoroughly enjoying.

Last night, I went to a line-dancing class. After the first couple of dances, I knew it was time to stop.

But I didn’t stop having fun!

I took pictures, visited with the owner, watched the other dancers, and enjoyed every minute of the evening. I left with a smile on my face and a story to write.

I could have gone home disappointed about what I couldn’t do. Instead, I enjoyed everything I still could.

There’s a song by for KING & COUNTRY called “joy.” One of the lines is simply, “I choose joy.”

I remember the first time I heard the lyrics. It was revelatory.

I choose…joy.

Joy isn’t something that comes only when things are going well. Joy is something you choose to embrace even when they aren’t.

That doesn’t mean pretending pain doesn’t exist or refusing to acknowledge difficult realities. It means recognizing that those circumstances don’t have to define your entire life.

Sitting in the doctor’s office, I had a choice: how will I receive this news?

I chose joy.