“This may feel uncomfortable, but it won’t harm you. Trust me.” My doctor’s attempts to reassure me did little to quell the fear rising inside.

She’d just completed a detailed explanation of how her cure for my vertigo would involve taking me through a series of fast, sequential movements with the help of three residents who were obviously eager to assist in throwing me around on the treatment table.

Despite the fact that this doctor was an expert at helping “dizzy” people like me, all I could think about was how embarrassed I’d be if I threw up all over them.

For months, vertigo had taken over every area of my life.

Nauseated.

Vulnerable.

Exhausted.

Exposed.

Unbalanced.

Out of control.

That’s how vertigo made me feel and now this doctor was asking me to surrender complete control into her hands.

“This won’t harm you,” she repeated with a voice that rang with confidence. “I’ll hold onto you and you hold onto me.”

I closed my eyes and braced for the nauseating, room-spinning sensation that would inevitably slam through my head.

“No, Kelly,” she interrupted, “You have to keep your eyes open and look at me.”

(Great—let’s add awkward eye-to-eye contact into the mix.)

Firmly in her grasp, the doctor threw me backwards to the table, tilted my head sideways and backwards, vibrated something against the side of my skull, then tossed me to a few residents who quickly rotated my torso and in one swift, coordinated motion, threw my legs off the table and shoved me into a sitting position.

I peered through my hair that fell wildly across my face as laughter erupted from across the room. Lee, my always supportive husband, couldn’t help but react to the whole unexpected medical treatment plan.

“Are you sure you’re a real doctor?” (Thankfully, he kept these thoughts to himself)

“Now, we’ll do it again,” the “dizzy expert” cheerfully commanded.

I endured another highly efficient tossing, then was sent on my way with a home exercise plan. I now had the knowledge to perform this same maneuver on myself in the privacy of my own home.

The most surprising part of the treatment was that it actually worked. My vertigo was completely gone. A sense of tremendous relief washed over me.

But the greatest and best surprise of all was still to come.

On the drive home, God spoke to me.

“Kelly, that doctor’s appointment is just like your walk with Me.”

Although, I couldn’t begin to imagine how God could possibly connect that crazy, out-of-control experience to my faith walk, I waited expectantly.

“Remember how that doctor stood in front of you and said, ‘This may feel uncomfortable, but it won’t harm you.’ That’s exactly what I do. I stand right in front of you and say, ‘Kelly, this may be uncomfortable but it won’t harm you. Don’t be afraid. Trust Me.’” 

Immediately God brought to mind the following verse:

“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

Tears filled my eyes as God helped me understand that all the areas in my life that seemed to be spinning out of control, were NOT outside His control.

The circumstances in our lives can often make us feel:

Nauseated.

Vulnerable.

Exhausted.

Exposed.

Unbalanced.

Out of control.

But that’s not the end of our stories.

Our Sovereign God stands in front of us, saying: “Don’t be afraid. Trust Me. I’ve got you and I’ve got this.”

He is not leading us, or those we love, to places of harmful destruction, but to places of abundant hope.

God is good and His plans for us are good.

At this very moment, the One who holds you close to His heart, has also gone before you. He carries all the details of your life in His very capable Hands.

Lord, our only hope is in You. May Your love wash away all fear as we stand confidently on the truth that You are on the move, working all things together—for our good and for Your glory. (Psalm 39:7, Romans 8:28)