The doctors were perplexed when it came to diagnosing my illness. You see, I not only had pneumonia, breathing issues, and low oxygen rates, I was also coughing up blood. I was repeatedly asked if I had left the country in the past few weeks, if I had recently been to Africa, or if I had been around someone who had been there.
It was an interesting set of questions as I had certainly not been traveling but a worker at a big box store, who had an African accent, was so taken with my eyeglasses, that she took them off my face and put them on her own. I was a little taken aback but thought maybe that was part of her culture. I asked the doctors if that might be the answer they were looking for.
But no, that was not it. I realized that they were looking for some sort of Ebola-style virus because of my symptoms… that, and the fact that they had put me in an airborne infection isolation room. It was a bit funny to me, sick as I was, that they were wearing their hazmat gear but my husband was sitting by my side in his regular clothes and was being allowed to come and go as he pleased.
They pretty quickly decided I was not airborne contagious and then moved me into a droplet contagious isolation room. The Infectious Diseases doctor told me he was running every known test (thank goodness for good healthcare insurance) and the tests were coming back negative. Still, he started me on a wide variety of antibiotics which I stayed on until I was released from the hospital but had me moved into a regular pulmonology hospital room for the rest of my stay.
The first pulmonologist I saw was determined that I had a progressive lung disease or, at best, an auto-immune disease. He rotated off and a new pulmonologist, Dr. V appeared. She asked me the same sort of questions but then asked if there was anything around the house that I might have inhaled. I thought about it and then told her about the new old stock that I had from my internet needlework business. Based on the age of the business, there would not have been an issue; however, I had bought the stock of an older distributor/store that might have had items as old as forty years. That, she determined, could have caused an allergic reaction.
She started me on steroids which, as she told me later, saved my life. She told my husband to remove all of the craft items from the house and have it cleaned before she would release me to come home. He got it accomplished in two days. What she said to me was that my craft items and various collections were “Toxic to you. They will kill you.”
Once I got home, I thought about this warning. In my mind’s eye, the items aged and rotted and were good for nothing short of a hazardous waste dump. When I said as much to my husband, he was in shock. He reminded me that we had always packed everything very well for storing, that I included damp removers in the room they were stored and that everything was brand-new and in great condition.
That had been part of the problem. We had been carrying these items around with us for 12 years at great expense when storing them and, when moved into our house, taking up a large amount of room. It wasn’t as if I could possibly finish all of the kits, let alone the patterns, in my lifetime. My husband and I used to joke that the two of us could finish them during the 1,000 year reign of Christ (maybe.)
I had sold a good bit of it on Ebay but when my grandson had heart surgery at six weeks old, I stopped selling and also my needlework designs and instead started watching him Monday through Friday while his parents worked. It was a wonderful release and I enjoyed watching him so much. Once he was well enough for preschool, I decided not to sell and postponed design work indefinitely. We still had way too much, especially of the needlework kits and patterns.
Periodically, my husband and I would get determined to just dump everything except for a few of the items which we had purchased for our own use. That included not only the needlework items but also several other craft collections we had amassed together.
As we would start to go through the items, we would be reminded of how much money they were worth and I would say that maybe I should try to sell them once again. That must have happened three or four times in the last two years. While I would not feel like doing the work to sell them, we could not keep from looking back at the money they cost and that they could earn.
So, once again, I was determined to dump everything and my husband brought up their worth and that, unlike what the doctor thought, they were in great condition. So, I took it to the Lord.
This was during the weeks when I could not fall asleep at nights (due to steroids) and the Holy Spirit was keeping me company throughout those hours. When I asked if I should dump everything, I was told no. So I asked if I should sell everything and again I was told no. So I asked if I was supposed to keep these items.
God told me no, once again. However, this time, He told me that while the items were not toxic to me physically (which was later confirmed by the Mayo Clinic), they were toxic to me spiritually. I was putting the price and value of physical things ahead of spiritual things. Because of my attitude, the things which were not harmful in their own right, became things of the world, sinful and deadly.
He told me that I needed to give away those items which were only worth money to me (keeping only that which He approved of) and to stop looking back at those things and the life that He had removed us from. It was time to move forward and look ahead, not to wallow and get stuck in and unable to move out of the past. But, instead, to have a future and a life with deeper meaning and to do the work He had for me to do.
To say that I was shocked was to put it mildly. I had never, until then, thought of the items as sinful. I knew that I wanted to be rid of them but neither my husband nor myself could bring ourselves to throw them away. But to give them away? We both love giving to others.
As confirmation, the next day, I received a flyer in the mail that listed all of the assisted living facilities in my town. I knew then who should receive the items. I wanted to hurry up and get well so I could go drop them off. I kept setting deadlines and missing them. It just wasn’t for me to do. Between recovering (and an additional lung surgery) and the horrible ‘flu epidemic this year, I needed to stay home.
Then God sent my home health physical/respiratory therapist. I was supposed to work with one individual and, instead, another one showed up. Within a short time, I found out that he was a Christian and that he worked with assisted living housed patients. When I asked if he would be willing to take my collection items to the groups he worked in, he said yes. I realized at that point that God had sent him for this purpose as well as my therapy.
So, for the first time in years, we are clearing the collections out of the house for good. There are some items which I get to keep (though I will do a second run through those as well.) Between my therapist and the Salvation Army, God is taking the burden off of our shoulders and providing it to those who can use it. We are still only halfway through but we know, in a short time, we will be able to remove this anchor to the past which has been keeping us from moving forward.
Because of our sin nature, we can bring sin into our lives in many different ways. For me, one way was by holding onto the past. If you feel like there are things from your past, either belongings or habits that may be holding you back, I ask you to look at your life. Try to identify what things or habits you have, in time and thought and even pocketbook, put ahead of the Lord. Ask God what He wants from you. Perhaps these are the things that, like me, have been holding you back from the path that Jesus wants you to walk.
Genesis 19:26 But Lot’s wife looked back, and she became a pillar of salt.