I am sitting on my couch, looking out over my messy living room (which is nothing compared to the state of the rest of my basement apartment) and I am feeling completely bewildered and helpless. Although it may not seem like it, I am struggling to bring words to mind and get them typed onto the screen. I had a rough night because it took a while to get to sleep and I'm now paying severe consequences. I feel the weight of gravity and the weight of my own fatigue pressing down on me, so that it is even hard to breathe.
I have been in a sorrowful mood since Sunday. We arrived back from a wonderful but far too short vacation late on Saturday night. Although I was exhausted and my body all stiff and sore from the long drive, I was eagerly anticipating the Sunday morning service. I love going to church, to be with God's people and hear from God's Word. God is radiant in glory, power and love and I delight to spend time with those who belong to Him and reflect His beauty. I also delight to hear from God's Word, so that I can learn in awe more of Him, as well as become more like Him.
I managed to get myself into the van that morning, even early enough to get to church on time. Mornings can be rather traumatizing for my weary body, and to say it can be difficult to get it moving is an understatement. About 3 minutes into the trip, the stabbing, gut-wrenching pain began. I figured it would linger only as long as I was riding in the van. I arrived at church, eager for the opportunity to talk with members of the congregation, and hopefully have opportunity to get to know them more. We are new at the church, and with my health being so bad, it has been difficult to get to know people. But as I walked through the doors of the gym, the pain became blinding. This pain was centred in my neck, but setting off the fiery inflammation throughout the rest of my body. I looked longingly over at the people across the room, wishing I could somehow manage the strength to get up and make my way over to engage in conversation. I had no success. A couple people stopped by my chair and spoke with me, but the pain, and now the fatigue was overwhelming my thought processes so that I found it difficult to communicate. I think I managed to say something, but definitely failed to say what I wanted. The service began, and this is when the pain became nauseating. I somehow managed to make it back and forth to the washroom a couple times. The sermon started. My chair was uncomfortable, and I thought maybe being on the floor would help. My stomach still seemed to be swelling upwards. At this point, in shame at my obvious weakness, I left and found a seat outside against a tree so that I would not disturb anyone with my cries of anquish. After half an hour or more the cold became unbearable and I needed to go back into the service and get the keys to my van. I was rescued by a dear woman who came and sat with me and rubbed my back to diminish some of the pain. After the service, my husband took me directly home, where I have been trying to recover the rest of the week.
I share this because I would like others to understand the world that sufferers live in. It's terrifying for me to expose these things. I am afraid of being judged, misunderstood, rejected, and a number of other things. The weakness of my body makes it more difficult to maintain rationality and composure. I am lonely, having to spend the week alone, somehow trying to meet the needs of my 14 month old daughter. I receive little communication from the outside world. My family live too far away to be able to help consistently. I desire to rejoice in my trials, but I struggle. I am often disgusted with myself and my limitations - being unable to clean, exercise, be reasonable, serve my community, be a good mother, etc. I seek to spend time every day with my Lord, but mentally and physically this can be very difficult, and thus frustrating. I seek to be thankful, but more burdens press down on me, and it can be far too easy to become discouraged.
The more I suffer, the more I understand what others experience when they suffer. My longing is that we would extract ourselves from the busyness of life, and love each other more by ministering to the needs of those who are struggling in our communities. If the Lord ever gives me my health back, I hope He will enable me to be a rich blessing to those in need. In the meantime, please let me know how I can be praying for you. I have some time on my hands and am happy to bring my friends before the Lord in prayer.
May God be merciful to us, and help us to press on and give Him glory.
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