A Tribute to My Dance Partner

The idea for this blog was inspired by the Andrew Peterson song “Dancing in Minefields” on his album Counting Stars. I endured a long week of illness at David’s parents’ house in Siler City, NC, being cared for and driven back and forth to Dr. Vaughan in Greensboro. It was one of the hardest weeks of my life—not only was I sicker than I could ever remember feeling and scared stiff, but I was without my better half, who was in Blacksburg, VA, taking his block 2 med school finals.

I knew he’d be coming to visit me over his block break, and I looked forward to it daily, but I was saddened because before I went downhill again health-wise, I had promised him I would find a cabin for us to stay in over his break so we could get away and rest together.

We’ve had a hard first 1 ½ years of marriage; it’s not been our relationship that has been hard, but our circumstances. We have literally been dancing in minefields since the day we said, “I do.” With all this in mind, you can understand why I so desperately wanted that week break to be in a cabin, for David’s sake. I was too sick to go far away, but then I remembered a beautiful, restored cabin that David had always been fond of located just down the road from his parents’ house. It felt like a far shot in the dark, but I gave the owners a call, and they agreed to let us use it for a whole week! I was as thrilled as I had energy to be.

Even after blind-folding him and driving him around in circles on back roads to create disorientation, he figured out where we were before his eyes were uncovered. Nevertheless, he was so excited, especially about the fireplace (which we both consider to be the epitome of comfort and relaxation). It felt good to see him really smile because it had been a while.
I wish I could tell you that we enjoyed a carefree, dreamy week of cabin bliss, but unfortunately, we attract disaster. If you are one of the poor souls that endured our wedding ceremony slash tempest, you know what I’m talking about. The morning after our first night in the cabin, we awakened to several wasps crawling around the window pane. David killed them, and we decided that having the heat on had encouraged the hatching of some brand new wasp babies into the world.

The next morning, there were about 20 wasps crawling around, some of which were uncomfortably close to our head board. David killed some and set some free. It was starting to get annoying at this point, but we wanted to make it work so badly!

The third morning, there were close to 30 wasps. David decided it was time for the big guns—wasp spray. By this point, he had located where the wasps were coming through the wood. The plan was to spray into the hole to kill the wasps in the nest so we could finish our week of rustic ecstasy. NOPE, didn’t happen that way. Once David sprayed the hole, close to 100 wasps emerged and fell on the floor dead.
To make matters worse, wasps started coming out of another place in the wall—he was under attack! He sprayed and sprayed until the can was empty. The fumes were absolutely unbearable, and I was downstairs! That’s about when he read on the label, “CAUTION: Do not under any circumstances use INDOORS.” Oh, for goodness sakes.

So we retreated back to his parents’ house defeated. On the bright side, we knew we had a good story and valued the privilege of indulging in some much-needed humor. The point of telling this story wasn’t the wasps, though. It was to share what inspired this blog…let’s go back to that.

So the cabin was David’s surprise from me. But he also brought me a surprise—the Counting Stars cd! At the time, I wasn’t sleeping well, even with Ambien and Xanax, due to my constant anxiety and random panic attacks. I would play music at night in case I couldn’t sleep or if I was awakened abruptly by a panic episode, I could listen to the music and try to calm down. Counting Stars proved to be perfect for that—we listened to it every night for a week straight, and during the day, and we never tired of it. It’s that good! It’s quality music with real life lyrics that are honest about pain but always offer hope in Christ—the perfect medicine for a distraught soul.

Although the cd is great for nighttime, David bought it really to show me one song: “Dancing in Minefields”; he had heard it on the radio, and it reminded him of our lives. He went home and looked up the video, which brought tears to his eyes. We listened to it together the night he returned to me, both of us broken and exhausted, as we held each other and wept. The lyrics are as follows:

I was nineteen, you were twenty-one
The year we got engaged
Everyone said we were much too young
But we did it anyway

We bought our rings for forty each
From a pawn shop down the road
We made our vows and took the leap
Now fifteen years ago

We went dancing in the minefields
We went sailing in the storm
And it was harder than we dreamed
But I believe that's what the promise is for

"I do" are the two most famous last words
The beginning of the end
But to lose your life for another I've heard
Is a good place to begin

'Cause the only way to find your life
Is to lay your own life down
And I believe it's an easy price
For the life that we have found

And we're dancing in the minefields
We're sailing in the storm
This is harder than we dreamed
But I believe that's what the promise is for

So when I lose my way, find me
When I lose love's chains, bind me
At the end of all my faith, till the end of all my days
When I forget my name, remind me

'Cause we bear the light of the Son of Man
So there's nothing left to fear
So I'll walk with you in the shadow lands
Till the shadows disappear

'Cause he promised not to leave us
And his promises are true
So in the face of all this chaos, baby,
I can dance with you

So this is a tribute to the best partner I can fathom having in this dance called life. He has held me tightly in the most unimaginable of storms. No doubt, this is harder than we dreamed, but that's what the promise is for. I love you, David.

Broken Cisterns, Shattered Dreams

"My people have committed two sins: they have forsaken me, the spring of living water, and have dug their own cisterns, broken cisterns that cannot hold water." Jeremiah 2:13

"Blessed in the man who trusts in the Lord, whose confidence is in him. He will be like a tree planted by the water, that sends out its roots by the stream. It does not fear when heat comes; its leaves are always green. It has no worries in a year of drought and never fails to bear fruit." Jeremiah 17: 7-8

"Everyone who hears these words of mine and puts them into practice is like a wise man who built his house on the rock. The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house, yet it did not fall because it had its foundation on the rock...but everyone who does not put these words into practice is like a foolish man who built his house on sand. The rains came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against the house, and it fell with a great crash." Matthew 7:24-27


God has me in a very uncomfortable place of weakness out of which I cannot dig myself. It's amazing how you can go through life thinking you depend on God. But it is when you are confronted with circumstances that you find you don't have the personal capacity to overcome that the waterless cisterns you've dug manifest themselves clearly. That's the best description of where I am presently.

I thought I'd built my house on the words of Christ; but what can I say of this mess of building supplies and rubble that surrounds me as I sit shivering and shocked by the effects of the storm? Christ, my foundation and rock, appears to be all that is left standing when I look at my wreck of a life. Only his work in me and through me remains after the fires of refinement have their way. He wants to make sure that everyone knows that Jana Watson Villanueva is nothing, but in Him, she is and has everything. May all people know that there is no one like God!

I am in a long term drought, and all the wells I am accustomed to frequenting for strength, motivation, and purpose are dry. You know what, I don't like to be in a place I can't work my way out of. I hate being vulnerable and being confronted by all of my heart's deceitfulness. It's not what I refer to as a good time to realize that my view of God falls devastatingly short of who He says He is. It's a shame to come face to face with my idols, the most important one to me being my plans, and be forced to give up my security because I'm lost in the wrong identity. Oh, I can't tell you how disturbing it is to sit in a pile of shattered dreams day after day, paralyzed by disappointment, confusion, and fear.

But I have to thank God for it. I have to thank Him for not allowing me to go another year with a false idea of who he is. Who I thought he was has not proved to be enough for me through the storms I've had to endure the past few years...chronic illness, my parents' divorce, suffering with panic attacks, and surrendering dreams I thought the Lord had placed in my heart...it's hard to lose everything that once gave you comfort and satisfaction.

I am used to having the endurance to succeed despite adversity, to tirelessly spend myself on serving others, to run and play sports, and to study large volumes of difficult information. But the decline of my health terminated any possibility of escaping the trauma through doing more, trying harder, and being more disciplined. Long-term giardiasis, migraines, and the crippling anxiety that resulted from malabsorption combined with a host of emotional and spiritual aches and pains have brought me to the end of myself. Any false hope has been burned away--only the real promises of God's Word can offer me relief in my groaning.

When my mom divorced my dad, there went another layer of security. My whole world flipped upside-down. And when fear and panic started to take over my mind through a series of unfortunate events, I lost the security I once found in denying emotional disappointments through mental toughness. The reality of my situation is this: I can't fix this.

So many people who have watched me receive one blow after another in the ring of this broken world have wanted to help me find the solution I need to get through this. My husband, my family, my friends and church family, doctors galore, and so on...everyone wants the pain to be over and for me to thrive,AS DO I, so of course, in my prayerlife with the Lord, I have asked him, "Why do you say you love me the most, more than anyone else, and yet, where are you in my sufferings? What role are you playing in bringing me a remedy?"

Well, the answer I feel he has given me is that what he has planned for me through all of this is more about me learning who he really is than it is about him rescuing me from pain and suffering. The reason why I strive to love people well and even wanted to do medicine in the first place was to make God known. However, to make him known, I have to know him--to know the real Him, the one that is applicable to the desolate, helpless, needy, sick and poor. Before now, I've known the God who has blessed me with everything I could ever want along with success in all my endeavors. But would I praise Him if he wrecked me like Job? Or better yet, will I praise Him now, even when what he is doing is unexpectedly difficult?

All broken cisterns are being cast aside to make room for the spring of living water to flow over my life...all the shattered dreams are being swept up and tossed to make room for God's perfect plan for my life. I have to choose to believe that God is good and that he will rebuild me. For your name's sake, Father, build me up with the bricks that proclaim who you are and what you've done in me! Give me a new dream--one that involves knowing you and representing you in an unpleasant world instead of worshipping you only when life is pleasant.

"I have loved you with an everlasting love. I have drawn you with loving-kindness.I WILL BUILD YOU UP AGAIN, and YOU WILL BE REBUILT, O Virgin Israel. Again you will take up your tambourines and go out to dance with the joyful." -Jeremiah 31:3-4

Welcome to the Wasteland

I have thought a lot about how to express coherently what my life has been like the past 4-5 months, but every time I try to write about it all, I find myself too overwhelmed to complete it. But I want to get something out here, so I will just use an analogy my husband gave me that best describes my body presently.

My body is like a city that has been a warzone for several years. It appears as if a peace treaty has finally been signed, but the city looks like a ransacked wasteland. The fighting is over, I hope, but the city is in ruins. I feel like I have been wrecked in every part of my being. It's going to take a while for my body to rebuild, for my emotions to be sorted through, and my spiritual life to be recovered. My life has been so chaotic for so long, I don't recall normalcy. I have tasted discouragement, fear, and pain like I've never known before.


But I know that God is answering the prayers of believers everywhere, because I am starting to see improvements. I have to believe that God's love for me never changes, and he knows what's going on. I have no choice but to wait for Him. Anyone who knows me knows that I'm a fighter. I've done and am doing all I know to do to restore health to my body, mind, and soul. I've done it all...exhausted the medical system, visited counselors, both spiritual and psychological, and I have asked hard questions of God in anger one moment and then I've found myself on my face in tears the next moment, begging Him for relief or at least a knowledge of his presence in the storm.

I don't know "why" all these things have happened in my life. There are too many layers for my finite mind to sort through. And everyone has their own idea of why I've been so sick for so long, which is normal...we as humans like to understand the "whys." I know that I sure have wrestled with God about it all, but I'll tell you what he seems to be telling me: "Trust me, Jana. Lean not on your own understanding."

I hate that because when I understand the cause of something, I can usually fix it or at least feel some element of control in my sufferings, but this season of my life has been nothing less than a hurricane...
an F5 tornado...
a transfer truck collision...
a disabling disease without remedy...
a shattering of my jar of clay on the floor of confusion, disappointment, and pain.

Welcome to the Wasteland, for that is what I am. I never thought God would want me here, in this desert, parched and dry, with nothing but a memory of water. What can he do with a ruin of rubble? I thought my plans were his plans--to become a doctor along with my husband and bring medicine to the lost people of the world. All my life, I've strived hard with everything in me to please Him in order to become someone usable for his Kingdom, and well, he has surprised me with something I never saw coming. He caused, designed, or allowed me to be absolutely stripped clean of everything I once relied on and hoped for.

I have to believe that His hand is upon me, even now, and that he is doing something that will ultimately bring glory to His name. It's not how I would have planned it, but who knows the mind of God that we can instruct Him? I am dust in the winds of His mighty power, and I will settle where he lets me fall. It's uncomfortable to be in such a place of neediness, grief, and perplexity. But who can complain? What have I given to God that he should repay me?

Waiting on you in the Wasteland, God...not my will, but yours be done. I have no direction for the future, no plans, no job, no responsibilities. I'm just waiting on you.