The Beautiful Calm Before The Devastating Storm

Have you ever been at a doctor’s office and everything is quiet and calm?  The doctors and nurses have a look of relaxation and ease, giving you a glimpse of how much they love their job.  The calm is so quiet and steady, making it seem the day will go about with ease with no disasters or havoc, and so you voice these thoughts.

Then a complete one-eighty occurs. 

The words you just spoke have struck terror in the medical staff’s hearts.  The frantically shush you, pleading with you not to say anymore. They are sure now the calm they were experiencing will soon end and the storm will break loose. 

I have experienced this many times at doctor’s offices or hospitals and sometimes I was the dreaded person who commented on how calm it seemed, receiving the shushes from doctors and nurses.  Isn’t it funny though how life is exactly like this scenario?  Life is going perfect, it’s steady and comfortable and you couldn’t be happier. And when you least expect it, the clouds roll in, the lightening strikes, and then the rain drops begin to fall…

When I began Asbury University, I had expectations that my experience would be perfect.  Reality set in and eventually I found a rhythm and a routine, but it took some time.  Not only was I juggling the new responsibilities of living on my own, I was learning how to live as an adult with a disease.  There were ups and downs, and soon, the ups outnumbered the downs.  During the middle of the spring semester of my sophomore year, I found out my current roommate at the time wouldn’t be returning for the fall semester the next year due to an internship she would be taking.  She was a very good roommate and I was sad to see her go.  I definitely considered her one of my first “ups,” at Asbury.  It was apparent I would need to find a new roommate for the next year.  The clincher was I had discovered community bathrooms did not work for my immune system and I needed a room that had a bathroom in it. 

I met with my Resident Director, she completely understood, and offered me a solution.  She explained there was a girl on my hall named Joy.  She currently lived in a room with a bathroom and would be back the next year as the hall chaplain or as Asbury referred to it as, Spiritual Life Advisor or a “SLA.”  She would get the same room next year and would need a new roommate because her current one would be graduating.  I was to speak with Joy to see if she already had a roommate in mind and if not, would she consider me?  What you have to understand is the girl I was back in 2010 is not the woman I am today.  I was shy, timid, and didn’t have much self confidence. It took a great effort for me to step out of my comfort zone and speak to people I didn’t know.  Oh I knew who Joy was, but we had only spoken once before, so the thought of asking her to consider us being roommates made me beyond nervous to where I was almost frantic.  I would have given anything for my Resident Director to speak to her on my behalf, but I knew this was part of being an adult and I had to look like I put forth an effort.  One thing was for sure, I wouldn’t be knocking on the door that belonged to a girl I barely knew, asking her to be my roommate. No, if God wanted this to work out, He’d have to bring her to me by my seeing her in the hall.  I also knew one of her best friends lived right next door to me and there was a chance she could come to visit her friend or write a message on her wall.  I went back to my room and every so often I would peek out the door to see if I saw Joy. 

Every time I did, the hallway was completely empty.  My anticipation and anxiety was building.  Would I ever see her by herself so I could talk to her?  Then at last I opened my door and not only was she in the hallway; she was at the dorm room next to mine!  Summoning every ounce of courage I had, I asked her into my room.  I explained my situation to her and held my breath preparing to be kindly rejected.  Why would she want to be roommates with someone she barely knew, who needed a bathroom because of her illness?  She probably already had someone else in mind. 

But God had other plans.

To my complete and utter surprise not only did she agree to be my roommate, but she seemed excited about it!  What I wasn’t aware of then was because I took a step out of my comfort zone, it allowed God to begin a beautiful friendship that would help me grow and blossom as a person. I ended my sophomore year with the assurance as far as housing went, all the details were secure and it gave me so much relief. 

When I arrived to Asbury to move in for my junior year, I hardly saw Joy because she had SLA training. The short times I would get to see her during her breaks were a little awkward for us since we hadn’t seen each other all summer. If either of us were worried about how our roommate dynamics would be, the night before we began classes solidified the type of friendship we would come to know and cherish.  We went to bed that night with first day jitters and excitement to begin classes the next day, and I’m sure it took some time for both of us to go to sleep. I was on the bottom bunk and Joy was on the top.  In the wee hours of the morning I was awoken by a chirp, chirp, chirp.  It would stop for a few minutes and then again, I would hear a chirp, chirp, chirp.  I inwardly groaned.  This couldn’t be happening.  A few moments later I heard a voice, “Hey Whit, do you hear that?” and the following hilarious conversation ensued.  

“Yes,” I told her, “I was trying to ignore it, but I don’t think I can.”

“Yeah, me either,” she and climbed down from her bunk.

I sat up on my bed, “Where do you think it’s coming from?”

Joy waited a moment for another chirp.  “I think it’s coming from behind my desk. I don’t know how we’ll get it.”

“Hmm, I guess we could just leave it.”

“There’s no way I could sleep with the chirping,” Joy answered.

We both thought for a minute.  “I know!” I exclaimed.  “What if you use my Swiffer broom to kill it?”

“Oh I bet that would work!”

So at about 3:30 in the morning I sat on my bed watching my roommate jam my Swiffer behind her desk frantically trying to kill that stupid cricket so we could enjoy another few hours of sleep.  Thankfully, she succeeded and we went back to sleep.  Now the cricket would have been enough to make the night eventful, but the the comedy wasn’t about to end there.  A couple of hours later I was awoken by “conk to the head,” as a hard object fell on the side of my temple and bounced off landing behind our bunk bed.

 “Ouch,” I muttered. 

A few minutes later Joy spoke up.  “Hey Whit, did my cell phone just hit you in the head?”

“Yeah, I think so,” I told her.

“I’m so sorry!  I hate to ask this, but would you care to get it for me?”

“Oh yeah, no problem!” I climbed from bed, and thankfully was able to reach her phone.  I handed it back to her, hopped back into bed and drifted back to sleep.  An hour later, I feel a crack to my head as a hard object once again falls on to the side of my temple and bounces off behind the bunk bed. 

“Ouch,” I once again muttered.

A few seconds later, “Umm, Whit, did my cell phone fall on your head again?”

“Uhh, yeah, yeah it did.”

“I’m so sorry!  I hate to ask you this again, but would you care to get it for me?

“Sure, no problem!”  I got down from the bed, retrieved the phone for her, snuggled back into bed and 30 minutes later our alarm went off.

Needless to say, this night was the icebreakers of all icebreakers.  It makes me chuckle when I think about it, but honestly, it was exactly what we needed to shake off the newness and awkwardness of not knowing each other really well and our friendship became a precious gift from God. Joy took care of me and looked out for me in a way God knew I would need.  Whether it was helping me carry a load of books from the bookstore or taking care of cleaning our bathroom so I wouldn’t get sick, she was sensitive and compassionate to my circumstances and needs without pitying me or making me feel like I was incompetent. She also pushed me out of my comfort zone, building my confidence in a way I never before had.  Because of her my self-worth began to grow and I felt a new and exhilarating sense I had something to offer.  By the time we reached the spring semester of our junior year of college I was trying things I had always been too insecure to try before. 

There was just one small cloud in an otherwise clear horizon.  Towards the end of my junior year, for some reason I began losing large amounts of weight.  Foods I used to have no trouble consuming began to cause me pain and discomfort.  I wasn’t going to let it slow me down though.  I kept “living” through the pain and weight loss. One way I did this is I decided I wanted to be an SLA my senior year just as my roommate Joy had done. Down in the depths of my heart I had a desire and yearning to step out into this leadership position, but was it something I could do with my health?  Would the insecurities still linger?  When I thought over the pros and cons, I saw the pros way outnumbered the cons. Joy and I would be rooming together again and living in upper-classman housing.  In upper-classman housing, SLA meetings only took place every other week, so I wouldn’t need to plan a weekly event.  Joy urged me to take this step of faith, insisting this was not only something I could do, but would thrive doing it.  When it came right down to it, it was something I had to pursue because I felt like God was calling me to this position.  However, when I finally decided I would take this step out of my comfort zone it was the beginning of August.  In two weeks, I would have to be back at Asbury for SLA training—if I was chosen. As far as I knew, the SLA position had not yet been filled for my hall, but I knew there was no guarantees the position would be given to me—someone could have expressed an interest in the position before me.

While at my first visit at the National Institutes of Health, I remember it so clearly, I decided to email the student who would be my SLA advisor and boss .  I explained my desire to him and how I felt lead by God to seek out this leadership position, however, I completely understood if the position was already filled considering how close we were to beginning the training.  I sent the email, proud of myself for the courage it took to send it, but fully expecting I would receive an email of regrets that the position had already been filled.  Very soon after I sent the email, I received a reply.  To my elation, he explained with excitement my email was an answer to his prayer.  He had been searching for someone to fill this position and hadn’t been successful until now.  The SLA position would be mine.  To say I was on cloud nine would be an understatement.  I had hoped and dreamed God would open this door for me and He did. Nothing could damper my spirits even the small blow I was about the receive from my new doctors at the NIH. 

The GI specialist I saw at the NIH explained to me the reason I had been experiencing pain and weight loss was due to a twist in my small intestine and it had to be surgically repaired.  The sooner the better.  But the past year had instilled in me a determination and boldness to accomplish the things I worked so hard for. I decided I would begin my senior of college; I would be an SLA, and I would graduate with my class and friends. I had given up so many things because of my disease, but I refused to give these things up.  So I came up with a plan my doctors and my professors agreed too.  I would begin the fall semester of my senior year as usual, then I would combine the last week of classes and final projects with finals week and have my surgery during the regular finals week at Asbury. This way, I would be able to recover and begin the spring semester on time and graduate as scheduled.

Despite the increasing pain and discomfort in my small intestine, I’m so thankful I chose to wait to undergo surgery because that fall semester gave me some of my most treasured and precious memories of my life.  During SLA training I met friends who would stand by me through some of the hardest times of my life.  One of those friends, Kelli,  and I even shared a birthday and when we met we knew from day one God had knitted our hearts together with a dear friendship. 

These fellow SLAs not only became some of my closest friends, but my family as well.  It was as if all these blessings came at once.  I even had the honor to share my story and testimony to the whole student body in chapel, a dream I had since my very first week at Asbury.  It was as if the showers of blessings came pouring down all at once. 

And God gave me a beautiful epiphany. 

It was during SLA training and I was in the cafeteria for lunch. It took me forever to get back to my seat to eat my food because I kept getting stopped by friends who wanted to know how I was and how my summer went.  As I finally walked back to my seat to eat it was as if God whispered in my heart, “You see Whitney, this is why you’ve gone through all you’ve gone through because the gifts and blessings you are receiving now wouldn’t be as special or mean as much.”

He was so right. 

The experiences and adventures I had the privilege of embarking on were ones I always longed for, but never thought they would be for me.  Throughout the semester I continued to battle the extreme pain and weight loss, but I strived to do my best in every area of my life— my SLA duties, my studies, and my friendships.  It was what I chose to do and I was able to succeed.  I made it through the last week of classes, finishing all projects and able to complete all of my finals within that one week. Even finishing that fall semester with good grades.  My last day at school before my parents came to pick me up, my roommate Joy and I went to lunch.  As we were walking out of the cafeteria Joy looked at me and said, “Well, this is your last meal in the cafeteria this semester.”

This was my reply, and I don’t even know where it came from, “Yes…if I came back.”

Joy looked at me horrified, “Don’t ever say something like that,” she exclaimed. 

The rest of the day brought packing up my things, my fellow SLAs bringing me a beautiful care basket for my surgery, and Joy and I going to look at Christmas lights— all of which took my mind away from the unsettling premonition I had earlier that day. 

 The next afternoon my parents, sister, aunt, cousin, and I went out for lunch before my family and I left to go home.  My aunt hugged me good-bye and told me she’d be praying for me and my surgery. For the first time in my life, I cried at the thought of having surgery. My cousin looked at me, “Aw, Whit, you’ve had tons of surgeries.  You’ll be fine.”  I looked at her and said, “Yeah, but this one is different.”

In my heart of hearts, I knew I was right.  As I walked away from my aunt and cousin to the car, I felt these truths in the depths of my soul: I was walking away from my beautiful, steady calm, headfirst into a devastating and life-threating storm.