By Faith...

Sometimes when I am running with my 80lb black lab, we approach a foreign object: a fire hydrant, an electrical box, a plastic flag for marking power lines, etc. These extremely dangerous objects cause Ol' Roc' to slow down his pace and stick suuuuper close by my side. By the time we actually pass these objects, he is at a slow walk hiding behind me with his head down and ears back. Watch out ladies and gents, he's a ferocious one!  The next time we run by this object he only slightly slows down, and the times after that, he is not even phased. In our most common route, he has no fear when approaching these objects, but will occasionally return to his cautious stance on routes we rarely take (it's like he forgets we've conquered that feat).

Roc' trusts me to not lead him to danger and that I will protect him. Eventually, he either knows to not fear the situation, or he has full confidence being by my side. (It's hard to tell which since he is a dog and I cannot ask him, but since he no longer hides behind me I can assume one of these explanations).

I couldn't help but see the resemblance in how we should be in our walk with God when approaching difficult times. We see a difficult situation ahead and we cling to God's word and promises. Our prayer life is off the charts during the obstacle when we just hope we can make it out alive. The next few times we find ourselves in similar scenarios, we slow our pace and cling to God, but with less doubt. We can trust in Him based on previous experiences where He has led us through "the valley of shadow and death".

This year I had a New Year's goal to strengthen my faith, as I think that should be a valid goal for everyone. I had no ides how to do this though. How does one strengthen faith? I can't do it at the gym, I can't order it online, I can't even just absorb it at church. Truth is even if I read the Bible, study His words, listen to people's testimonies and spend more time in prayer, I can't necessarily just build faith. (Hey maybe some people can but honestly, I'm a learn-by-doing kind of person.) In fact, I don't think it has to do with ANYTHING I can personally do.

Faith is described In Hebrews 11:
"Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see."

I have just recently began to appreciate fully the rest of the chapter, too, that explains how it is "By Faith" many believers trusted in God's promises. They had confidence in Him, even before they knew the immediate outcome or even though they wouldn't see all of His promises fulfilled. They knew enough about Him that in times of struggle, they relied on Him. They had more faith than doubt.

This year my father had back surgery. Which on the skin is ironic since he is a chiropractor (in fact chiropractic is what helped postone this surgery by a decade or so, but that's another story). Anywho, the thought of surgery was odd, as we were raised a natural lifestyle and back surgery almost seemed taboo, like he was giving into the thought of just 'doing what was easier'. I felt like my father having this surgery was a direct stab to his own teachings; he was a traitor!

During this time I searched myself and realized I was in no means the victim (bad selfish Rachel). This was a serious matter that was postponed as long as possible and lessened due to chiropractic, but yes, modern medicine was developed for times exactly like this-necessary operations to alleviate pain. (Fyi he had a disc removed that was putting pressure on nerves; he was slowly losing feeling in his legs.)

So instead of worrying, I put all effort into praying; into giving my fears to God. Prayers for healing, direction, comfort. Praying because that was better than stressing more.

And then it hit me while on a run with Roc', actually. That same run I previously described. There are times when events in our life just don't seem fair, they are difficult and we really would prefer them not happening. They scare us, and during those times when life doesn't make sense, all we can do is slow down, cling onto our Faith in God and make it through the times.

I might never fully understand why this had to occur. 

It did, however:
1. Reinforce the belief that yes, healings can occur multiple ways.
2. Remind me of my own experience and how the Lord taught me so much through it about situations we don't understand.
3. Strengthen my faith for the above reason. Everytime we are put in a difficult situation, choosing to lay down our doubts and stresses and just trust in God is an opportunity to strengthen our faith.
Teachings, readings, experiences all were backup for my acknowledge of His superiority of the matter. During those arduous times, it's okay to slow down your pace in life and cling on. The more often these times occur, the easier it is to not be as scared and have confidence in the unseen.

What's that story about footprints in the sand?

"For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." -Jeremiah 29:11

-RR

This is my Story, this is my Song

I originally wrote this note on Facebook on July 11, 2008, just a few days after leaving the hospital. I like to re-read it, often to remind myself of the smallest details that occurred that normally slip my mind. It is 5 years to the day of being admitted to the hospital, and I cannot even imagine the road I'd be on if it weren't for this experience. Prior to my hospital stay, I was a teenage girl, attempting to fit in with my peers, unsure where my future was, and stressed out because I couldn't do everything. I have since learned to trust fully in He that holds my life and have faith in His plan. My prayer for you, the reader, is to read my story with an open heart. 

This is a post explaining everything that went down in my 10 day hospital stay, read it if you want or were curious about why I was there. Enjoyyy

June 27th started out as a normal day, until I had my mother pick me up from hanging with Erin and Alicia and drive me home, where I stayed in bed all afternoon until about 9.40 when I had a 103 degree fever and stomach cramps like no other. I ended up in the emergency room and after getting a catscan, we learned I had Crohn's disease. To break it down: a portion of my intestines was inflamed and infected and my over active immune system was basically trying to kill myself. I then was 'admitted' to the hospital and began what became my 10-day hospital stay in room 314 in the H.E.B. Harris Methodist Hospital [[side note, there was no room 313, apparently the hospital didn’t have any room 13’s or floor 13]].

Originally, a colonoscopy was scheduled for Sunday morning, which was freakin’ sweet let me tell ya. But their plans changed after an episode of acute pain and high fever Saturday afternoon, and they moved the surgery to Sunday morning. The rest of Saturday afternoon was spent in agonizing pain, where I had to get help from my parents to get in and out of bed, anything involving ab work was not possible and I just couldn't do.

So surgery was scheduled Sunday, June 29th at 7:30 a.m. and I don’t really remember much about that day...until that evening after most the drugs wore off...and the next few days were filled with fun recovery and morphine. Every day was a fun adventure, seeing which nurse I had every day. Since their 12-hour shifts ran from 7am to 7 pm, I got this thrill twice a day! I was woken up many times each night by the pcts to check my temperature, blood pressure and heart rate. Surprisingly, my heart rate was 'too low' when they would wake me up from my sleep to take it, go figure... I had an IV every day I was there, but the hand/arm switched about every 2 days because they were giving me so much by IV, it would overwhelm my veins. In fact, once it began seeping into my arm not my vein, which was fun and painful experience. I actually named my IV stand Edward, I figured since he went everywhere with me, he deserved a name.  Edward got moody though and beeped whenever the antibiotics or other liquids going into my IV were close to out. So if I wasn't waking up from the pcts taking blood pressure or someone from the lab taking blood, it was Edward beeping rather loudly, not to mention if I had to use the restroom...Going into the hospital I had a huge fear of needles, crazy how that went away after a shot in the stomach every morning and drawing blood at 4:30a.m. and switching IV's about every other day changes things... 

After surgery, getting out of my bed began as a hard enough experience, let alone walking.  But one of the most rewarding times was being able to get out and into bed by myself. I couldn't move or do anything that consists of much ab work, so I had to re-teach myself how to move and get up or down using my arms and legs more than my abs. This movement, along with walking, was something I took for granted before the surgery. The joy of being able to walk my circular hall at a speed my grandmother could beat really can't be put into words.

On about Wednesday [[I think, all of the days run together really]], I had to get two blood transfusions. Apparently my hemoglobin count was down to a 7...where a normal person's was around 14. Basically, I was anemic.

I couldn't eat anything before the surgery, so my last meal was noon on Friday until a popsicle on either Wednesday or Thursday. Until then I survived on ice chips. [[3 days after leaving the hospital, after being able to eat normally for 3 days, I weighed in at about 15 pounds lighter than I was pre-surgery]] Luckily I surpassed hunger and didn't feel my body starving. But don’t worry, they were pumping me full of good nutrients to keep me alive via my IV. On Thursday or Friday, I began my 'liquid diet' which basically consisted of all the jello, cranberry or apple juice and chicken broth I wanted! Whoohoo!

I watched TV & movies, colored, thought, texted, prayed and slept to pass time. But let me tell ya, those 10 days were the lamest days I’ve ever experienced; just sitting in my hospital bed, losing weight and muscle tone, and probably brain cells.  The highlight of my days was when I had visitors. People from the outside, bringing cheer and laughter into my room; definitely sunshine on a rainy day... I owe a lot to my Aunt Karen, who spent so much time pampering me with pedicures, hair washings, and laughter; spending time with me; time away from her husband who is recovering from stomach and lung cancer. A full healing we will continue to believe in.

At this time I would like to thank everyone who came up to see me, texted, messaged, called, prayed and kept me in your thoughts. Thanks for everyone who visited with me after I returned home and showed concern. It meant and means so much to me to have everyone there for me. I love y'all so much!! I would like to report that I have been able to eat. I can eat beef, sweets, milk products, and things I haven't been able to eat in months without any pain. I’ve been healed and fixed! 

And I would now like to talk about how God works in mysterious ways. If this experience has done anything, it has surely strengthened my faith in my Lord and Savior. Everything about this condition has worked in perfect timing for his plan for my life.

My excruciating pain didn't start until a Friday, in which my doctor's office was closed, so my parents took me to the E.R. instead [[which just happened to be empty so I was seen to immediately]]. Otherwise a doctor would have diagnosed my condition incorrectly as he would not have the same ability as the hospital. The doctor at the E.R. was able to diagnose my condition quickly as his two children also had Crohn’s disease, which was really just a working of God for me to have had that doctor. Furthermore, this surgery couldn't have happened at a better time. If it happened during the school year I would have missed school; my classes, my GPA, Marquettes, senior year activities, anything and everything would have been affected. Instead, I was able to graduate after having an amazing senior year. I was able to celebrate 2 of my grandparents' 80th birthdays just days before going into the E.R., and getting out I was able to celebrate my Aunt Karen’s birthday and will be able to celebrate my little brother’s birthday. If this episode would have happened later, I would have fallen behind in my semester studies at A&M and I can't even imagine having this surgery 4 hours away from home in a hospital with doctors nobody knows [[the thing about staying in the hospital in Bedford is that my Aunt Karen works there and has for a long time and knew the best doctors and nurses and I was treated very nicely and efficiently]].

The largest healing miracle came in form of the catscan and the day that followed actually. Originally the catscan revealed a very large section to be removed in surgery. The Saturday before surgery, when we met with the surgeon, I was told he was going to have to remove a combined ten feet plus of my intestines, that which appeared inflamed and infected in the scan. The night before the surgery I went without a pain for twelve hours. Specifically, from late afternoon when Pastor Kyle and Jordan visited and we all prayed, laid hands and I accepted God's healing in my life, maybe around 5 p.m., to the actual surgery, I experienced no pain. Additionally, I didn't have a single pain killer in that time. The night before surgery I slept without pain, something which hadn’t happened in a year and 2 and a half months. I was jumping in and out of bed, something unusual for the amount of pain I was in the night before and that morning; seeing how all day Saturday people had to literally pull me and push me to move me out of bed. It was then that I knew I was healed.  That whole night I felt Jesus's presence in my hospital room, specifically holding my hand through the night.  This night was the most frightening night for me to ever experience. The night before I, Rachel Faith Armentrout, went into surgery.  I have never experienced surgery, and in fact, the only time I remember going to the doctor’s office was when I had strep sophomore year.  But I knew God had healed me of any further infection and I couldn't and can't thank everyone enough for praying as hard as they did. There was once in the night when I awoke in a sweat, but with no fever or pain. Later that week, we heard from some people that God woke them in the night to pray for me, all at 1 a.m., which was when I awoke. I thank God for everything he has done for me in this experience, for when I went to surgery, the surgeons removed the bare minimum of only 3 feet of my intestines, and that all the other problems the catscan had shown in my intestines were gone. Additionally, they removed my appendix, which was reported near hardened and two cists on my ovary. I had 11 external staples and have stitches, and according to the doctor, a whole lot more on the inside. But that’s a whole lot less than the surgeon anticipated the day before.

My mother stayed the night in the hospital room for the two nights prior and after the surgery. However, Tuesday night after my surgery, she decided to sleep at home. I don't blame her; the pullout couch couldn't possibly be comfortable. Waking up in the middle of the night in a dark hospital room had to be one of the scariest things I’ve ever experienced. In the middle of the night, all alone, the room was so empty, lonely, and frightening. I don’t know if it was my fear amplifying the sound of the air conditioning, or if it was the devil himself storming outside my window, but I could have sworn there was a horrible rain storm that night [[which the next day my parents assured me there was definitely no storm that night]]. But at that time, I called out to my Lord and in the shadows of the room I saw Jesus. Maybe you think the pain killers went to my head, but the peace and tranquility that encompassed my body and soothed me back to sleep convinced me otherwise. For the rest of my stay, I did not find that room scary, because I knew Jesus was by my side, the entire time.

If you do not believe in miracles or in God's healings, I wish I could fully share everything I have felt with you to prove to you otherwise. To me, this experience was a strengthening of faith, as Jesus has further proved his love and power to me. I’ve never felt so carefree or pain free than how I felt going into this major surgery, knowing that God had his hand over me the whole time. If you are questioning God right now in your life, to really see if he's there, I wish my experience could be enough proof of an omnipotent and merciful God. 

If I could, I believe I would relive this experience. I really did see God and it fully solidified my beliefs in him. I wish it didn't have to take a $5k surgery and 10 day hospital stay to do so, but am so grateful it did. The most important thing I learned was that sometimes God works in ways we just don’t and can’t understand.  You can be in a situation where you've been questioning God for a long time, maybe longer than a year and two and half months. In that time you can be upset, mad, depressed, looking anywhere for answers, but maybe it’s not time yet for an obvious answer. Whatever your case, trust fully in the Lord and he will direct your ways to align to his perfect plan in your life. He will protect you, and if you stay with him, everything will turn out exactly how it should. I was always the child wanting to see God, wanting proof of his existence by being able to walk on water, or seeing a bruise instantly disappear. I have no doubt that this whole experience of God healing me of Crohn’s disease and guiding me through a minimal pain free healing was part of his plan to reveal himself to me. Sometimes our human knowledge can't understand the way God works, but that’s ok, because it's not for us to worry about.

If you have read my memoirs this far, I hope you get something out of it. Maybe you think I’m just crazy. Maybe you just think I’m a Jesus freak. If that’s the case, then bring on the label because I’m not denying it.

Tuesday, July 8, 2008, the day after being discharged from the hospital, I received a call from my grandfather, who just returned home as well [[he broke his hip just last month and was in rehab until this day]].  He shared this verse with me, and said he was praying it over me the entire time I was in the hospital. [[Funny how we were praying for each other, while we both were in a hospital/rehab center.]]  I wanted to share this with everyone else:

"For I the Lord thy God will hold thy right hand, saying unto thee, fear not; I will help thee." -Isaiah 41:13

And finally, the verses that have gotten me through life since the 7th grade:

"Therefore I say unto you, take no thought for your life, what ye shall eat, or what ye shall drink; nor yet for your body, what ye shall put on. Is not the life more than meat, and the body than raiment? Behold the fowls of the air; for they sow not, neither do they reap, nor gather into barns; yet your heavenly father feedeth them. Are ye not much better than they?...take therefore no thought for the morrow, for the morrow shall take thought for the things of itself. Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof." -Matthew 6:25-26, 34

"Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen." -Hebrews 11:1

And with that, I’d like to close my memoir with a deserving: Thank you Jesus. Amen.

Reflecting on My Post Surgery Life

For the past ten days (between the 4 year anniversary of the my entering the hospital and leaving the hospital), I couldn't help but relive those days, contemplating all I have learned since my stay.  I have pondered all the events  that piece together the road I took that has led me to where I am now.  After re-reading my journal entry from 4 years ago, I realized how some of the small details I had left out, made the largest impacts in my life.

Fish Camp:
In my journal entry, I failed to take note of a very small detail, only because I did not realize its importance at the time: The doctor in the ER who diagnosed me with Crohn's (because he had a son with colitis and a daughter with Crohn's who underwent my same surgery) asked his daughter if she would visit me in the hospital, because she was also an Aggie.  Following the surgery, after the extreme morphine days when I can actually recall who visited me, this girl came and talked to me.  She talked about her life post-surgery (probably one of the calming conversations at the time-to know other people had this operation and were doing fine).  She discussed her ability to eat 'good' foods again (ice cream and pizza!).  But most importantly, she mentioned how she was a Fish Camp Counselor, and she told me I HAD to go to Fish Camp because it'll be a lot of fun and the 'Ice Berry Blue' was to die for. [I later found out this was a drink in the cafeteria at the camp; anyone who has gone to Fish Camp will most likely be able to share about its wondrous tastes. In my experience, counselors and freshmen returned from camp with Nalgenes filled with this stuff].  Her willing to share with me, a random girl in her dad's hospital, was truly the first experience I had with the Aggie Family and my first glimpse of Fish Camp.  When I left the hospital, I was told I needed to stay at home, rest and recover for 6 weeks. And on the 7th week, I went to the Fish Camp I had registered for months before. I enjoyed the Fish Camp experience so much as a freshman, thanks to my wonderful Camp, DG, Counselors, and friends I made from Fish Camp, not to mention the first impression the doctor's daughter made on me, I applied for Counselor the following spring.  In the Spring of 2009, I became a counselor for Fish Camp Olvera; little did I know God had much more in store for me than just being a counselor; this was the camp I met and became friends with James, my husband of almost a month. This small detail of my surgery story still amazes me and brings me to tears; how God can make one single event waterfall into so many blessings, all in His time and according to His schedule. 


The Diet:
Before the surgery, while I was having intestinal issues, my diet consisted of plain bread, plain pasta, boiled vegetables, plain chicken or turkey, ground turkey, and butter and salt as the only "spices". The day before being admitted into the ER, I had eaten a can of olives, because I found that was about all I could eat.  We now joke about the infamous can of black olives that set me over and sent me into the hospital; Black Olives are still my favorite foods. I had lost much weight my senior year of high school, and later I heard many people believed I had an eating disorder. When I left the hospital I weighed 100 pounds (for a 5foot6 girl, that's way too light).  I often joke about my 'freshmen 30' that I gained during my first year of college; however, gaining back my weight and maintaining a consistent jean size has been THE best feeling.  Knowing I can buy a pair of jeans and still fit into it in 3 months has been a great achievement since my surgery.  Since I lack 3 feet of intestines, I must take Iron pills and eat foods high in Iron (since the large intestines is where Iron absorption occurs).  I can't eat corn, popcorn, or large amounts of salads due to the high amount of fiber in the foods. I believe this compromise (with my intestines) is quite acceptable; although there are times when I truly miss corn-on-a-cob or a big dinner salad.  I also have a new perspective on ridiculously skinny people; those individuals one would normally pick out of a crowd and ask one's friend, 'do you think he/she is anorexic?'  After having health issues that led me to be extremely skinny/look borderline eating disorder, I can't help but stop myself from thinking along those lines and wonder if they are having health issues. God has opened my eyes to care for people in a way I hadn't before.


My Scar:
The surgery left a noticeable scar; an approximate 3 inch vertical scar under my belly button.  Most of the time I can ignore the stares and glances from other people when I venture into public pools or beaches.  All of the time I wish I could stop and share with every single person what that scar means to me.  When I see the scar every day, what it reminds me of:

-The physical memories: pain before the surgery and all the times I spent throwing up due to eating food my stomach just couldn't digest, inability to eat normal foods, the inability to drink yellow Gatorade now after I had to consume so much of it for my CAT scan, watching 4th of July fireworks from my hospital room, how bad it hurt to sneeze for months after my surgery, the 'hand grenade' that was practically attached to me to soak up everything during the week after the surgery, how it took me almost 4 years to gain back my ab strength I had before since I could barely do crunches for a year following my surgery.

-The mental: knowledge I have acquired about intestinal diseases, learning how to reduce my stress and focus on a carefree life (I wish that could happen completely!), my learning about allergies and foods.

-The Angels in my life: the people and friends who have been there to help, to offer support, to ask questions and want to hear my story, the woman who walked into Jason's Deli one of the last days I worked before I went to college and was able to share her Crohn's story with me and my dad when I was getting off work, the scholarship donor who called a month after my surgery when he learned why I had missed the scholarship reception: he was also living with Crohn's and warned me of the pains of popcorn.

and most importantly:

-God's miraculous healing- falling asleep the night before the surgery feeling nothing but peace and feeling Jesus holding my hand during the night and through the surgery, telling my parents right before I left into the surgery that they won't find what they were looking for because God had healed me, hearing after the surgery that the doctors indeed did not find the 10 feet the CAT scan revealed needed to be removed, only a smaller portion (Humans only have 30 feet total of intestines, 10 feet and 3 feet are a huge difference).


There are days when I feel down, stressed, worried, etc., and on those days, my Lord only has to remind me of my scar, my memories, my experience, MY story.  I immediately feel ashamed I have doubt in His ability to take care of me.  I can't explain why this experience has happened to me; I believe some people, like myself, have miracles happen to them, some get to see them, and others just get to hear about them.  My healing miracle didn't just happen for my own healing; every time I share my story, I am able to bring glory to Him who heals, who keeps His promises, who brings joy and peace.  I feel compelled to share, for all of those people in my world who have not experienced a miracle [yet], so that they too may hear of God's greatness and faithfulness. 

I was raised with an evangelical pentecostal foundation in church.  My miraculous healing story only solidifies my belief in the baptism of the Holy Spirit, speaking and praying in tongues, laying on of hands, and of miracles. I have been in church Sunday School classes in college where a group discussion leads to opinions about these topics.  I have heard that 'miracles don't happen now a days because they don't need to'; I have been told 'speaking in tongues was only for the church in Acts, because people don't need to hear it to believe' and 'speaking in tongues is only used to show to outsiders about the Holy Spirit'.  At this point of the conversation, I share: I stand a healed woman, steadfast in my beliefs that actually Baptism in the Holy Spirit, speaking and praying in tongues and miraculous healing DOES occur in the 21st Century. I can share my story and my experience, but only those with open hearts seeking God can take in all that I say.  These events DO happen now-a-days, I come from a church where they DID occur, I have a story where they all played a large role in my healing.  It makes me sad to think Christians deny these gifts of the Spirit exist or NEED to exist, but I always ask, "Are you seeking them? Are you knocking on God's door for them? Are you steadfast in asking for them?" Who's to say this world does not need these gifts? I see a world full of pain, individuals searching for answers and peace, lost people desiring the wrong things to try to feel satisfied.  This world needs God and all of His gifts of the Spirit. I need them.


My walk with the Lord since the surgery has led to changed attitudes, perspectives, friendships and my relationship with Him.  He has led me to and away from people, places, and things.  I have been humbled and acknowledge I am nothing without Him.  He gave me Godly friends, a wonderful, fully scholarship funded college experience, an amazing degree, a job near home, a perfectly placed home next to Aggie neighbors who bring us to church, and a driven husband following my Lord.  He has also taught me everything goes according to His plan, all in His time.

I sometimes find it hard to share every little detail of my stay; I find it hard to talk about my experience without forming tears of joy.  I had wondered in high school what my testimony was; I thank God for it now.  And all it takes is a quiet whisper from Him or glace at my scar to remind me of His love for me, and all mankind.