After years of researching Lyme disease, don’t you think you should know it all by now?
I wish I did. But the more I learn, the less I know.
So you’ve read all ten books that are out there on Lyme. Maybe you’re an LLMD who has been practicing for twenty years or are a Yahoo! Lyme group connoisseur. Maybe you’ve been healed by this or that therapy, but….So what?
Be careful when you put on a white lab coat for others.
Shouldn’t we all share what we’ve learned about Lyme in order to help others? Of course. We do a disservice to other Lymies if we don’t. Yet even amongst the best of the best, how can we know what therapy will heal another? If Borrelia is a complicated specimen, how much more is the human body whose marvels we have yet to fathom! Dare I say, tread carefully when you say you know the way…any way, out of Lyme.
We have been to the moon, made airplanes, created the internet, and yet by comparison know close to zilch about the interworkings of our bodies. God, in His marvelous mysteriousness, has made us to be as unfathomable as the universe in which we live.
Why would He make His creation to understand so little about itself? Our bodies carry out extraordinarily complex tasks without us knowing the how or why or what of it all. We are the machine but we don’t really know much about what makes us stop or start. We can’t push our own biochemical buttons, much less find the parts needing repair, because sometimes, that missing screw is itty bitty and not the one we think we need. And it’s not even a screw that will work on other machines.
Our knowledge is like a grain of sand on a vast beach, just like the rest of the universe and its resources which have been graciously given to us by God to help heal our bodies.
So fortunately, we’ve been given some clues. Clues which enable us to progress along the healing path, (although sometimes, the Master intervenes without any effort on our part). But where we have been allowed to make discoveries, we soon learn that this is all they are. Discoveries that add another piece to the puzzle of health–perhaps not even our own but rather another’s–and which are not a panacea.
But that’s OK. Because if we allow them to, clues keep us humble. Clues can keep us from the arrogant notion that the therapy or thing that has cured us from Lyme should work for another. They keep us from being pushy in our views and from believing that we have the one and only answer to question XYZ. And realizing that we own little puzzle pieces instead of the puzzle, I believe, is the first step towards effectively using what Lyme has taught us to help others heal.