Tears by 8 am
Sometimes (understatement) life in Israel is hard.
Errands that would be easy in America become complicated, if nothing else, because I'm an functioning in a second language that I only speak on a beginner level. Add the culture of chutzpe in to the mix and its just a rough go of it on some days.
As I've walked out this journey of Cushing's Disease, I have had more than few tough days, simply from navigating the healthcare system. Even six months after my surgery, appointments still try their hardest to disrupt my peace.
This morning I left the house with Aviel at 7:15am to walk, yes walk, to our Kupat Cholim (insurance clinic), to do a few labs before my next endocrinology appointment. The test had to happen before 8 am by the doctor's orders, and even earlier if possible, to get Aviel to gan on time. We left the house with ample time, however, I forgot Aviel's backpack and had to turn around to get it. Finally we arrived, but to a room full of people. I pulled my number, and after a 40 minute wait, in which someone (no names) spilled water all over the floor, the technician informed me that I did not have the correct documents for them to do the test.
I burst into tears.
Receiving orders for this test just two days before, this was my deadline for drawing blood so that the lab results would be completed before my appointment. And I need those labs.
Aviel and I gathered our belongings and headed to the bus stop, tears still streaming. As we approached the traffic light, I noticed our preferred bus, the 30aleph, pulling up. There was no way we would make it to the stop still stuck at the light. Noticing that his light was about to turn red, I thought maybe just maybe the driver would let us on while he was stopped.
I banged on the door, but no. He refused this mother crying and shaking, with her small son.
Then we sat at the bus stop, me still crying, until the next bus arrived.
When we miss the 30aleph, we have to take two buses to gan. I cried the entire two bus rides there. And the sad thing is that this is one of many stories of bloodshed and tears in the land. It is not easy.
But... Can I tell you a secret?
I am thankful.
My circumstances are such that I am pressed to walk in humility before God. I need Him for every breath that I take. It is only because of His goodness that I'm able to make it here. I'm not good enough or strong enough to do it on my own, and I know that.
Anything that draws me closer to God is worth the struggle.
So I'll take it.
I'll take rude bus drivers and language barriers. I'll take tears by 8 am. I'll take it if it gives me something new to lay at Messiah Yeshua's feet.
You know what else I'll take?
A nap. At 10 am.
Good night.
Related Posts:
Lets Call it Chocolate
Errands that would be easy in America become complicated, if nothing else, because I'm an functioning in a second language that I only speak on a beginner level. Add the culture of chutzpe in to the mix and its just a rough go of it on some days.
As I've walked out this journey of Cushing's Disease, I have had more than few tough days, simply from navigating the healthcare system. Even six months after my surgery, appointments still try their hardest to disrupt my peace.
This morning I left the house with Aviel at 7:15am to walk, yes walk, to our Kupat Cholim (insurance clinic), to do a few labs before my next endocrinology appointment. The test had to happen before 8 am by the doctor's orders, and even earlier if possible, to get Aviel to gan on time. We left the house with ample time, however, I forgot Aviel's backpack and had to turn around to get it. Finally we arrived, but to a room full of people. I pulled my number, and after a 40 minute wait, in which someone (no names) spilled water all over the floor, the technician informed me that I did not have the correct documents for them to do the test.
I burst into tears.
Receiving orders for this test just two days before, this was my deadline for drawing blood so that the lab results would be completed before my appointment. And I need those labs.
Aviel and I gathered our belongings and headed to the bus stop, tears still streaming. As we approached the traffic light, I noticed our preferred bus, the 30aleph, pulling up. There was no way we would make it to the stop still stuck at the light. Noticing that his light was about to turn red, I thought maybe just maybe the driver would let us on while he was stopped.
I banged on the door, but no. He refused this mother crying and shaking, with her small son.
Then we sat at the bus stop, me still crying, until the next bus arrived.
When we miss the 30aleph, we have to take two buses to gan. I cried the entire two bus rides there. And the sad thing is that this is one of many stories of bloodshed and tears in the land. It is not easy.
But... Can I tell you a secret?
I am thankful.
My circumstances are such that I am pressed to walk in humility before God. I need Him for every breath that I take. It is only because of His goodness that I'm able to make it here. I'm not good enough or strong enough to do it on my own, and I know that.
Anything that draws me closer to God is worth the struggle.
So I'll take it.
I'll take rude bus drivers and language barriers. I'll take tears by 8 am. I'll take it if it gives me something new to lay at Messiah Yeshua's feet.
You know what else I'll take?
A nap. At 10 am.
Good night.
Related Posts:
Lets Call it Chocolate
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