My Journey from Apathy to Freedom

My Journey from Apathy to Freedom

Therefore, we do not lose heart.  Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day.  For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all.  So, we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal. 2 Corinthians 4: 16-18 

ap·a·thy ˈapəTHē/ Apathy is an absence or suppression of passion, emotion, or excitement. Lack of interest in or concern for things that others find moving or exciting.

I know apathy well, and I would venture that you too have known her well.  Apathy often creeps in slowly after some tragic event, or losing a loved one that you so fervently prayed for, or believing for a miracle that never came. It creeps in and sucks the life out of your prayers, drains the hope from your heart, anchoring all your feelings on what you “thought” your prayers should do.  

Sixteen years ago, I began my journey into a state of apathy.  Something that propelled me forward spiritually in so many ways, became the very door that apathy chose to enter.  I was expecting our first child and had a perfectly healthy pregnancy.  We went for our first ultrasound at 30 weeks.  What we found out at that appointment shook us to our core and brought us to our knees before God.  

Our daughter was diagnosed with a severe brain malformation.  You could have told me she had no fingers, or that she had no legs, we could have worked with that, but to say the brain was not visible…there is no “working” with that.  This began a sincere and desperate plea to God to heal our daughter.  Not just us, but our family and church joined us in this prayer.  Praying daily for her complete healing.   

Fast forward 16 years, and here we sit, our beautiful daughter, not healed.  She is a miracle in so many ways, but not the ways we envisioned it in our prayers.  Not the way I was told by so many that they saw her in dreams.  She sits in her wheelchair, not able to speak, not able to feed herself, not able to do any task without assistance.  She is fed through a tube, and kept alive by medicine we give her 3 times a day.   

 The years of living with Kennady have brought me so much closer to God than I could have ever dreamed.  Seeing the world through different eyes.  Growing in compassion and being able to minister to people I never could have otherwise.  However, at the same time, apathy began creeping in…sounding like “God doesn’t heal everyone; “maybe he will heal them, or fix this…maybe.” When praying for others it sounded a little like “God, I know you can, but I am not sure you will.”  The “maybe” was slowly chipping away at my faith – a small hole in the bottom of my boat, slowly taking on water.  Yet, day after day, I kept trudging through the water, not noticing how it was getting in, or that I needed to do anything about it. After all, if I prayed about it, the boat may sink anyway. 

One night, as I sat there at another of my “apathetic crossroads”, I talked with my husband about my friend who doesn’t know God, but is facing a difficult time with an autoimmune disorder.  I wanted to tell her that I believe God can heal her, but I was afraid to.  I said to my husband “I worry that if I tell her God can heal her, He may not.”  After all, I have witnessed this possibility first hand.  In that moment, the dark clouds began clearing.   

My husband asked me “what happens if He doesn’t heal her?”  I was afraid of that!  I know He is good, I know He can do great things, I am just AFRAID He won’t do the great things I think need to happen for her to see Him. 

Insert crying, lots and lots of crying.  How foolish.  How much unbelief.  How much trusting in the healing, instead of the process and goodness of our Father.   

All of my hope was anchored in what I “thought” God should do for others to prove Himself true, and hindered by apathy of the unknown.    

Like a salesman, I was offering my God as a magician…instead of a God who is a faithful father in good or bad, healing or death, answer or silence.  The irony is that I have lived this and love Him with all that is in me, yet I was still offering this shallow portion to those around me.  How much more depth and richness there is to offer than healing, financial gain, prosperity…. 

Oh, how good He is.  So good that I don’t have to offer anything other than his perfect goodness in all things.  He is good, so I do not have to offer control or have control.  He is my hope and my life.  

The Word says it best in every moment “we do not lose heart” and “fix our eyes on what is unseen..it is eternal” 2 Corinthians 4: 16-18. The hope we have to offer to others and believe for ourselves is simply, Christ alone.  He is sufficient in any moment, in every way.   

Praying for your heart as I write this, that if there is any unbelief after years of service and seeing things not turn out the way you thought they should, that God will show up in this moment and break that chain.  Freeing you again to trust Him in every moment for yourself and others.  

With love,
Erica Steele
Promiseland Church
San Marcos, TX