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My Spiritual Journey with CF
By Isa Stenzel
My journey with cystic fibrosis has certainly cultivated my spirituality. I was five years old when my parents told me that some day my twin sister Ana and I would die from CF, and I wanted to be prepared for an afterlife in Heaven. My parents were both raised as Christians but we were not a religious family. They wanted us to discover our faiths on our own as we matured, so we were not pressured to go to church.
As a child, I knew I wanted to be a Christian because it was easily accessible. I remember nurses at the hospital giving me books on “Getting to Know God,” knowing how much a strong faith would help me cope with CF. At nine, I asked my parents for a Children’s Bible which I read every night. My naďve childhood prayers consisted of begging God to cure CF. Despite abundant CF challenges, God blessed us with a happy and stable childhood. Ana and I attended Cystic Fibrosis Summer Camp and knew many other children who were worse off.
After my first semester in college, my best friend from CF camp, Karen, died suddenly and I was crushed. She was a strong Christian and I admired her faith. In my grief I desperately wanted to see Karen again one day in Heaven. I had not been baptized and to realize my wish, I decided to accept Jesus Christ into my life. Knowing Jesus would sustain me in life, and it was the simple things that drew me to him; his compassion, selflessness, his teachings, his human side. On Easter, 1991, at the age of 19, I was baptized. It seems selfish now, because my motive to get baptized was just to be reunited in Heaven with Karen. I didn’t really understand what it meant to be a Christian. And I’m still learning that today.
As I grew up and adopted the liberal values as a Californian, I struggled to understand the Christian views on homosexuality, creationism or abortion. I still struggle with reconciling my personal views on these issues today and question the Bible often. Over the years, I have gone to church on and off, constantly questioning what it means to be the perfect Christian, of which I am so far from. I am always full of excuses, including using my health problems as a distraction. But my relationship with God has always been my fortress of strength, in my daily life, my major decisions, my struggles with accepting myself and illness. I have always believed God has a plan for me, and He has absolutely control. In my prayers I asked God for what I wished but always ended with “May your will be done,” knowing that He knew better for me in the long run.
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