My "Come to Jesus" Moment

So, as I'm sure it's been obvious to everyone, I've been pretty discouraged.  Bordering on depression even.  I now struggle ALOT at work.  This is bad.  When you are a therapist, you MUST hear.  Those ugly feelings of uselessness are roaring.  Once I made the decision to get an implant, I wanted it done NOW.  Well, life doesn't work like that.  So as I've been going through the evaluation process again, still without having any answers about it actually happening, I've been losing hope.

I was driving home in a recent snow storm late at night.  I couldn't see a thing.  As I was driving super slow trying to figure out if I was in an actual freeway lane, I was anxiously searching for anything that would guide my driving.  As I stared at the road, I finally began to see an occasional white line, marking the lane division.  Every several feet I would see a line.  I would either know I was still within my lane or I would course correct to go back into my lane.  As I was thinking about this, I realized that my feelings of hopelessness along my implant journey have been due to me not seeing any "white lines."  I felt I was navigating this journey alone with nothing to guide me.  I challenged my thinking (that's a good therapy technique by the way) and began thinking about all the things along the way that have kept me going.  There were actually a lot.  Mostly, the white lines of this journey have been the people in my life.  My co-workers have given me "white lines" by validating me, praying for me, building me up and accomodating me.  My in-laws have given me "white lines" by being mindful of me, still trying to talk to me and praying for me.  My family has given me "white lines" by asking questions, being patient and remaining involved in the journey.  Marie, the rep from Cochlear Americas, has provided "white lines" by researching my insurance and finding a way.  Also, by her constant follow up.  My husband has given me "white lines" by joining me in the journey and making phone calls to follow up.  My children have provided white lines as they tell me often "Mommy, I love you soooooooo much."  As I realized how much people cared about me and how invested people were in my hearing, my feelings of hopelessness left me.  My new thoughts (also a good therapy technique :) became "surely all this combined faith will yield answers from my loving Heavenly Father and I will be taken care of."  Also, I was filled with peace that things would work out.  Maybe, not in the ways I think it will, but still, it will all work out.  I do not feel discouraged anymore.  I know it's going to be okay.