I have issues, who doesn't? We all have wounds that almost make us who we are. I say almost because at some point we have a choice to alter (as in change, deny, or oust) the lies that form us. I battle this. I lose a lot. I also try hard to not let the word "Bipolar" define who I am. I am working really hard on that because I know that my faith can rise above it. But the reality is, I do have a mental health problem. And it takes over a lot, even when I am making choices to change the potential outcome. When it's "coming on" I ask Jesus for help. I ask for it to go away. I ask for his care. I ask to be in the palm of His hand. I ask these things moments before the storm hits. And I believe he answers these prayers because I am still alive. But he doesn't deliver me the way everyone wants me to be delivered. He doesn't deliver me the way I expect to be delivered. He works on me through my diagnosis. And although it doesn't define who I am, it is a tool for my sanctification.
When I am in the storm, I can't "just change". I can't make the decision to just "get better". I'm not a light switch with an off/on. When I am riding the waves, I am just holding on for dear life. Literally. I am crouched in His palm, weathering the torrential downpour. And I can't stand, I can't think, I can't breathe. I can just be what it is at that moment. Hard.
I am so frustrated that God has chosen not to cure me. I thought it could happen. I know it can still. But for now, I am who I am--evolving.