Be Still & Know

In February of 2025, shortly before turning 40, I went for my first mammogram. At the time, it felt like an ordinary appointment. Looking back now, I can see that God was quietly beginning to unfold a story I didn’t yet understand. During that appointment, an area of “questionable architectural distortion” was discovered in the middle outer quadrant of my left breast. After an ultrasound, the radiologist concluded that the spot was “probably benign,” but decided I would need to return in six months for a follow-up and sent me on my way.

I returned in August for the follow-up visit, and again, after a mammogram and ultrasound, I was told that the area of concern was less conspicuous than before, but that they would check it again in six months with my regular annual mammogram.

When I received the bill for this follow-up, I have to admit I was annoyed. I had one mammogram that fell under the “preventive care” classification for insurance purposes, but from that point forward, because of this “unconcerning, probably benign” spot, my mammograms would no longer be considered preventive. Unless, I suppose, the area of concern goes away?

Regardless, I was annoyed after that second follow-up. Annoyed by the bill, annoyed that it took up literally half of my day, and not to mention the emotional agony of sitting for what felt like an eternity for a second time, wondering if this time would be the time when they did become concerned.

Each time, while waiting for the results, I found myself talking to God. Both times it was a similar prayer, something along the lines of:
“I really can’t take any more on my plate right now, Lord. Haven’t I been through enough over the last few years with my health? I’m finally starting to adjust to life with POTS and get back on my feet, so this is really not what I need right now. This is not what my family needs right now.”

God knew that my heart was not in the right place. Not then. Four years of battling a chronic illness, with no answers or hope for relief, had really worn me down. That, coupled with some other serious challenges in our family, had me incredibly stressed and simply not in a good place. God knew I wasn’t ready for the challenge then, but He began working on my heart over the next few months. He was preparing me even then. I see that now.

After finally finding a specialist for POTS who could actually help me, for the first time in more than four years I was starting to feel better. My functional capacity was improving. I wasn’t having to rest or sleep as much, and my flare-ups and symptoms were becoming more manageable. As my health improved, I was able to focus more on my family and on those things that had burdened me so deeply. I began praying, begging God to do anything necessary to bring peace and restoration to the situation.

Even though He reminded me daily that the weight I was carrying wasn’t my burden to bear, and as much as I wanted to trust Him fully with it, I was having a really hard time letting it go. He was patiently waiting for me to realize and admit that I had done everything in my own power and exhausted every resource available to me. Then maybe I would finally turn it over to Him once and for all.

And then the day came when two professionals told me that it was time to accept that I had done, and was doing, everything that could be done in that situation. It was time to be at peace with knowing it was no longer in my hands.

I took that as a divine message from God telling me that it was time to let it go and let Him be God. It wasn’t easy, but I gradually started to loosen my grip and relinquish control, all while continuing to pray for God to do anything necessary to bring peace.

And with that, 2025 came to a close. I was ready to turn the page to a new year—better health, a more positive outlook on life, and fully trusting God to answer my prayer.