There are just some days from the time you wake up until you go to bed that are emotional rollercoasters from tears of joy to tears of sadness and back again.

 

Some days seem overwhelming, filled with a sea of ups and downs and rock strewn shores and sharks circling you.

 

Yesterday, was one of those days. When the world crowds in and…

 

For a moment you forget to breathe.

 

For a moment I took my eyes off my Lord and Savior and fixed my eyes on the world.

 

For a moment I let my fear and anxiety overtake my reason.

 

For a moment my heart flashed back to a time before, sitting in a doctor’s office, watching the door, waiting for the doctor to come back in.

 

We have had our share of health struggles. Every day I battle and struggle with my body, with Lupus.

 

And that’s O.K.

 

But this wasn’t me. This was my daughter…and eight years ago it was my son.

 

A mother’s heart, you know.

 

All the symptoms were there—extreme thirst, excessive urination, extreme fatigue, weight loss. The doctor was concerned. And in that moment, my unwavering faith faltered…for a moment.

 

I didn’t want to be in that place, in that chair, again. I didn’t want to look into my daughter’s eyes if the doctor came back in the room and uttered those life changing words.

 

For a moment, I was not O.K.

 

Eight years of emotions flooded in, and for a moment, I couldn’t pray.

 

For a moment I let fear and anxiety flood my heart.

 

I reached out to a friend and to my sister and asked for prayer.

 

It seemed a very long time waiting for the A1C , waiting to know if our lives would be changed again.

 

You see eight years ago Type One Diabetes came into our lives, unexpectedly, like an unwelcome dinner guest , except Type One Diabetes never leaves.

 

Some would say Type One Diabetes steals the life you knew, but I would say Type One Diabetes gives you a new way of life.

 

 It’s hard when your own body betrays you. When you’ve done nothing wrong. Lupus isn’t diabetes, but it is a chronic disease that you have to battle and manage.

 

It seemed a long time before the doctor returned, before the door opened again, before he stepped in with a mix of shock and relief on his face. “She doesn’t have diabetes…I was sure she did.”

 

When she had reached out earlier to her brother and we were going through her symptoms, he said, “I wouldn’t wish this on my worst enemy. The last person I’d want to get this is my sister.”

 

Wow!

 

See, sometimes it’s O.K. to not be O.K. To let your guard down. To be human. Because, that’s real and raw and emotions are meant to be felt not bottled up.

 

Even Jesus wept.

 

It would’ve been o.k. if she had “it.” I would have been o.k. She would have been o.k. We would have been o.k.

 

Faith vanquishes fear every time, and battles and struggles, well, that’s where faith deepens her roots and takes hold of your heart.

 

Some days, it’s O.K. to not be O.K.

 

It’s O.K. to reach out. To ask for help. To ask for prayer.

 

It’s O.K.