Illness almost killed me. I didn’t know it at the time. Not really. I’d guessed, but I didn’t know for sure. Not until later, when I was “out of the woods”, as my doctor put it. Though I hadn’t been told, she told my parents that if they hadn’t brought me in to receive the rare treatment available there, I would have died within a month. Death isn’t something most 15-year-olds think about.

Many months later, when I found out, it made me pause. And struggle. I felt overwhelmed with fear. Not fear of dying, but fear of not doing all I was created to while living. God and I wrestled through it for weeks, and eventually, we worked through it for the most part.

But the fact that I almost died has kept hold of me. “Oh death, where is your sting?” is something we say in so many ways. And I’ve sung and shouted it with the most obvious of meanings. But recently, it’s taken on another meaning. Death has kept a hold of me. Even though I’m living, healing, and returning to “regular”  life, my body, mind, and heart know that I almost died.

It makes me cautious. Wondering. Aware. And feeling like I can’t ever fully heal because of it.

In January, I am hosting a conference for chronically ill Christians, and the theme is Living Hope based on 1 Peter 1. Well, since I named my first book “He’s Making Diamonds”, and Jon Steingard (one of the members of Hawk Nelson) wrote the introduction for it, people naturally asked if the song “Living Hope” by Phil Wickham had also inspired this theme/title.

The truth is, I actually discovered the song after determining the conference theme. But I’m pretty sure Phil Wickham’s song is inspired by 1 Peter 1. Still, though, listening to the song, something in me didn’t grasp it or connect to it. It’s a great song. But my heart wasn’t ready for it yet.

A few nights ago, however, that changed. I was wrestling and struggling — yet again — with how much illness has stolen from me and how much it is still clinging to me even as I enter a season of healing and light after the long, dark tunnel of illness. It hurts — still hurts — so much. I feel a bit lost in this mess and I don’t know how I’m going to ever heal from it all. I shared my struggles with a friend, and she recorded herself playing and singing the song “Living Hope”.

That’s when it hit home.

“How great the chasm that lay between us
How high the mountain I could not climb
In desperation, I turned to heaven
And spoke Your name into the night
Then through the darkness, Your loving-kindness
Tore through the shadows of my soul
The work is finished, the end is written
Jesus Christ, my living hope

Who could imagine so great a mercy?
What heart could fathom such boundless grace?
The God of ages stepped down from glory
To wear my sin and bear my shame
The cross has spoken, I am forgiven
The King of kings calls me His own
Beautiful Savior, I’m Yours forever
Jesus Christ, my living hope

Hallelujah, praise the One who set me free
Hallelujah, death has lost its grip on me
You have broken every chain
There’s salvation in Your name
Jesus Christ, my living hope”

1 Peter 1 has so much truth in it. And we’re going to be exploring it far and wide and deep at the conference. But for me, this week, this is one part that hit home.

Death has lost its grip on me. Why? Because even if I can’t figure out my way through the murkiness to healing, God can. Jesus is the Healer. No wonder I’m so lost — who in their right mind would think that they can heal without a Healer? Jesus is my living hope. Jesus is my hope for living. For healing. For breaking the chain of illness and death.

In the darkness, Jesus walks with us, and in the light, He is our shield and help. In both, He is our guide.

I still feel a bit lost. A bit confused. A bit stuck. A bit chained. But I will trust that God is not done with me yet. He will complete the work He’s begun. And He will do the same for you. He is our living hope. And our hope does not put us to shame. But hope requires trust, even when we can’t see.

These have come so that the proven genuineness of your faith—of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire—may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed. Though you have not seen him, you love him; and even though you do not see him now, you believe in him and are filled with an inexpressible and glorious joy, for you are receiving the end result of your faith, the salvation of your souls.” (1 Peter 1:3-9 NIV)

Note: To register for the conference for free or to find out more details, go here. Taking care of your heart and soul is just as important as taking care of your body. And we want to help you do that. The battles you are facing are huge, and we want to encourage you with life-giving hope.