Notes on healing.

Some of what the barren women of the Bible teach us is that God is responsible for our heritage and continuance; that children are a gift from God.  (Mind, sometimes I am amazed and not a little perplexed at how and to whom he chooses to distribute those gifts).

I am realizing, the older I get, that while the medical establishment and the knowledge it represents are also a gift from God, doctors do not have all the answers.  Ultimately, whether miraculously or through medicine, God is the one who heals.  And, more troubling, perhaps, God is also the one who sometimes does not heal (at least in the way we ask him to).  And here again, the ways in which he chooses to allocate the gift of healing do not often make sense to me.  They seem terribly unfair.  And sometimes God seems terribly unfeeling toward me and my predicament.  A friend of a friend (a doctor) spoke of the Christian task of “seek[ing] the Healer, not the healing”  when we pray about our health.  Perhaps this is part of my problem; I am seeking something from God, rather than seeking him for his own sake.

I have wondered how to approach God with the issue of infertility, and also of the general ill-functioning of the body that can be associated with Poly Cystic Ovarian Syndrome (PCOS).  At first I thought of it purely as a medical issue, so I went to medical doctors and specialists to deal with it.  I have read about lifestyle alterations that are supposed to help (a confusing endeavor, as some of the advice is contrary).

I am still doing all of that, but now I pray about it more often.  This change in perspective is in part because of growing desperation, a historical lack of financial resources for “voluntary” (and therefore not covered by public health care) medical treatments, such as fertility drugs, and the seemingly insurmountable obstacle of radical dietary changes.   I think part of it too is that I have seen the medical establishment dumbfounded and powerless to save enough times that I am convinced that something beyond human medical attention is required.  Despite often feeling like God has forgotten me or is at least disinterested, I believe God is interested in my health, that his work is a necessary component in my health.  Theologically, I believe that his work in its various forms is the necessary component in my health –  that without his work, me, my health, the accumulated wisdom of the medical profession, the world itself, would all cease to exist.

Sometimes, when I am calm and at peace, I can almost be thankful for the difficult road infertility has set me on.  At least I am thankful that I have studied theology, so I have categories in my mind to organize and make sense of the complicated bundle of thoughts and feelings infertility has brought into my life.