Every inch of you is perfect, from the bottom to the top.
-Meghan Trainor, All About that Bass
[…] My soul is cast down within me; therefore I remember you […] deep calls to deep at the roar of your waterfalls; all your breakers and your waves have gone over me.
-Psalm 42: 6-7
I wore my new leopard-print shoes today, for the second day in a row.
It was highly necessary.
I had a doctor’s appointment at 7:30...in the AM. The AM, I tell you. The morning. After a sketchy-at-best night’s sleep, tossing and turning and listening to the trains running along Bellingham Bay all night long, I stumbled out of bed at a very ungodly hour and put my best face forward. And my favorite new shoes. Facing one’s lady doctor that early is no small endeavor, and you gotta be prepared. Knowing that morning is not my best time of day-ha!-I wrote down all my questions, recent symptoms, and advice from the internet on how to get your doctor to listen to you. Be specific. Be descriptive. When does it hurt? What makes it feel better? I found myself having to be more than usually reflective on my chronic pelvic pain. Seeing my monthly woes listed out in plain black and white made me feel even more desperate to have some answers.
I’m glad I had my new shoes on. Leopard-printed courage. The news is not conclusive, but it’s still not the best news I’ve ever received. High levels of hormones due to my increasing age (whaaaaaaaaaaa?) and/or endometriosis.
ENDOMETROSIS???
Another chronic pain condition? On top of my fibromyalgia? Areyouserious.
I admit I’ve had my suspicions for some time, but to hear it as a real possibility from my lady doctor makes it kinda SCARY and REAL. After I woke up a little more after my appointment, the reality sunk in a little more and I had to hold back tears more than once today.
It’s discouraging, you know? You try, and you try, and you try. You pray. Your husband is wonderful and takes such care of you. Your friends and family gather and love on you. You fight through pain and exhaustion until you can’t. You take your supplements, drink your filtered water, heave yourself on the exercise bike, and take many naps. And yet, the body fails. And yet, courage fails. And yet, there are still no easy answers, easy solutions. And yet, there are still many struggles ahead.
So I find myself downcast today, this first day of Fall, this day of imperative cute shoes, this day of glorious, delicious rain. I find myself utterly incapable of the task ahead of me-living life in this new realization of more chronic suckiness. I find myself without bravery or guts today when it comes to facing my pain. All day long, in the midst of foggy shock and disappointment, I find myself clinging to God, to His promises. Remembering that all can be well with my soul, because He is with me. I find myself having to grit my teeth, and choose that His grace is truly and really sufficient in my great weakness. That His light can shine through this very broken jar of clay. That because I have hope in Christ, I am actually very bold.
I am moving through life right now in one of the great and terrifying paradox of Christianity-when we are weak, then we are strong. Hope is shining through in leopard print flats, faith and grace, and the love of others, but for today, it’s ok to be a little bit downcast.
Oh girl, you took the words right out of my heart. I too, am on a very similar journey to you. Different chronic pain, mine is autoimmune disease, candida, non-functioning thyroid, a mile long list of food sensitivities, a plethora of as of yet undiagnosed symptoms, and recently topped with a nice cherry of Herniated disc in my back and sciatica down my right leg. OOF! To say that the last few years, and more concentrated the last several months have been one of mere survival would be an understatement. And as you said, as sweet as your significant other may be, and as kind as friends and co-workers try to be, they truly don't understand the depth of what you are going through. The very sucky part of chronic pain conditions, they are very silent and often unnoticeable to the naked eye. While internally every system of your body is going haywire. And when loved ones become trained to assess your symptoms, there is absolutely nothing they can do to fix you. :( It can feel like a very overwhelming, and lonely road. Your social life becomes nil, your patience runs thin as your nerves are on edge, your body feels like a 1,000 Lb carcass you are dragging around. Grocery shopping, showering, cleaning your house, communicating... once very doable without second thought tasks now seem like climbing Mt. Everest. You can't find a food that doesn't make you feel sick after consuming, your brain ceases to function because there is pain triggering in every part of your body, where to focus first. You are taking so many vitamins you forget half of them... Ring a bell ;). The depression that threatens to overtake, as you look at your 30 year old going on 90 year old self, and you wonder where your healthy vibrant years went, and if you'll ever feel that again. I have no words of great insight or significant wisdom to share to ease your discouragement. I can only say, take courage you are not in this fight alone. As you stated, our weaknesses are so apparent in these times.I pray that we would find great encouragement in the process. I know for me, it has been a truly terrible, but utterly refining season in my life. As humiliating as it is, having to have your boyfriend practically hold you up/carry/drag you into church because you can barely walk ( on the weeks you actually make it to Church) it forces you to be real with people real quick. It becomes very difficult to hide your inabilities, and throws you on the mercy of Jesus and others. I wish there was an easy fix for all these things. Perhaps this is merely a season for either or both of us, and perhaps not. Having to trust Christ and His word in the raw, real starkness of the bad times, is definitely where truth of our belief is tested. I hope these trials wouldn't waiver but rather strengthen our convictions and solidify our trust in the only one who truly holds each of our days. I promise you, I have had so many random crying sprees, melt downs, pity parties, tantrums, depression delving moments along this journey. I say it's ok to have a down day. We are frail humans after all :). We wouldn't be very honest if it looked like a bed of roses and a barrel of laughs all of the time. IT.IS.SO.HARD. So we fall down, and then with Christ's help, pick ourselves back up :). In light of recently losing my gramps, and the finality of that until Heaven, it makes me that much more conscious of the number of our days. It is my great hope, that each morning we wake up with breath in our lungs, that we live it to the fullest, in what ever manner it is given. So as Fall is now upon us, my absolute favorite season, get bundled in layer upon layer ( as some of these conditions make you SO FREAKING COLD) , sit outside, drink a chai/tea/coffee/pumpkin spice goodness and in all the capacity you are given for this and each day...Just breathe. And keep.on.breathing :) I'm right there with you girl, and if you ever need to talk to someone who even remotely understands your specific situation. I'm here. You are not alone. :)
ReplyDeleteHey, you! Awww, thank you thank you thank you so much for reading and posting. Means so much-especially from someone who gets the chronic pain/chronic panic/chronic disappointment! I also refer to myself as a 90 year old. hahhaha. It's so weird to follow Jesus and have chronic pain, but I know that He can use this for our good and His purposes. Yeah, let's keep breathing and believing Him! And yes, fall is my favorite season, too! High five!
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