In Weakness
Chronic disease has a way of taking you on a ride of emotional ups and downs in an intense "peek and dive" kind of way.
Our bodies follow suite with that as the emotions aid either the progress or downfall. It can feel like battle all of its own to reign in our emotions and try to get things flowing in the right direction.
There are a few real emotional times that stand out to me as we walked the darkest days of my illness.
Losing the ability to do things was really devistating to me. I still struggle with this a bit because my body is not back to what is was before this journey of illness began. I really miss getting down on the floor and playing with my kids. Chasing them and running are still distant memories but I have hope of regaining these abilities.
Early on, I remember trying to mustar up all my energy to make waffles for the family on Saturday for lunch. The pot that I was going to heat the milk in was too heavy for me to get out of the drawer. I couldn’t open the jar of yeast. Finally, with my brain all in a fog, I had messed something up in this recipe that I had made probably 100 times before. I ended up sitting on the stairs, bauling my eyes out because I couldn't do it! Honestly, I was really scared. Fear of getting worse and "being useless" often lurked in my thoughts.
Looking back, I am so thankful for my husband. He both comforted me and, sometimes just laughed things off. This is really important!! It's so easy to get super worried and over dramatise everything. One morning, when I couldn't open the door to the bathroom to let myself out, Luke opened it for me from the other side and then made a joke about keeping me locked up in there. I went from a panic thought of "I can't even open the door!" To a thought of, "This is bad but we're going to get past this."
Hitting bottom can happen more than once. And it can be the most simple things that break you when you are already weak.
After leaving our children for a month, driving out of state for treatment, having an adverse reaction to that treatment that plummeted my health even further, I found myself one morning trying to make oatmeal for my kids. With their help, we were almost there ....I just went to the pantry to get the jar of raisins. I tried to lift it but my wrist screamed in pain and the jar felt heavy and unmovable. I broke. I felt like I was nearly outside of my body, hearing myslef have an emotional break down. I heard myself scream and cry. And standing there before the pantry, I finally turned to see my poor children staring at me wondering what was going on with mommy. I heard myself say, "I just want my body to work!" over and over before I finally pulled it together and hugged my children while repeating, "I'm so sorry."
Chronic pain without hope of relief has a way of uncovering who we really are. My feelings of fear, devastation and panic revealed to me that I wasn't trusting God with my body and my days. I was emotionally stable when my body was "normal" because I felt like I was in control. We never are in control really. It is very healthy to come face to face with that.
In some of my most painful moments, I am ashamed to admit that I was disappointed when I woke up again after sleeping. If suicide had been a mere button that I could push the temptation would likely have been too great for me then. I praise and thank God that suicide does need premeditated thought and thoughts are something that, as a Christian, I am commanded to take captive. In obedience to Christ, those thoughts can be silenced as quickly as they arise. And He gives more grace. He is a good God! His commandments are for our good. His law sets us free and gives us life!
Regarding emotions, I have to end with how pain brought great joy as well!
Our church and family so supported and loved us through this time that I literally felt my cup overflowing with blessing! Some tears were tears of amazement and joy as I was humbled by how much people loved on our family. To list all that was done for me would be almost impossible.
I also experienced in a much deeper way an assurance that Luke loved me. This illness drug on and on and on. We had 5 small children to care for and a job that needed daily attention. Just taking care of me could have been a full time job if you counted the doctor appointments, research, medical papers to keep organized and helping me with everything I had lost the ability to do for myself.
One evening I was on the couch, in and out of sleep. Each time I woke a little I heard Luke's kind and cheerful voice as he cared for the children and made dinner. The chatter and laughter of the kids was like sweet music to me. I fell asleep and dreamed that I was not yet born. I could see Luke but I couldn't get to him. I was overcome with the thought in my dream that "I have to be born so I can marry Luke and have a family with him." Not every day was like that. Somedays the kids were fighting and whining and Luke was struggling to care for them and me. But he never gave up on helping me get well. He loved me and loved me and loved me just as he promised that he would on the day we married each other. In my sickness, his love was confirmed to me again and again. He was always kind to me and he never lost his sense of humor. Even when the trials are dark and difficult a cheerful heart truly does good like a medicine!
Our bodies follow suite with that as the emotions aid either the progress or downfall. It can feel like battle all of its own to reign in our emotions and try to get things flowing in the right direction.
There are a few real emotional times that stand out to me as we walked the darkest days of my illness.
Losing the ability to do things was really devistating to me. I still struggle with this a bit because my body is not back to what is was before this journey of illness began. I really miss getting down on the floor and playing with my kids. Chasing them and running are still distant memories but I have hope of regaining these abilities.
Early on, I remember trying to mustar up all my energy to make waffles for the family on Saturday for lunch. The pot that I was going to heat the milk in was too heavy for me to get out of the drawer. I couldn’t open the jar of yeast. Finally, with my brain all in a fog, I had messed something up in this recipe that I had made probably 100 times before. I ended up sitting on the stairs, bauling my eyes out because I couldn't do it! Honestly, I was really scared. Fear of getting worse and "being useless" often lurked in my thoughts.
Looking back, I am so thankful for my husband. He both comforted me and, sometimes just laughed things off. This is really important!! It's so easy to get super worried and over dramatise everything. One morning, when I couldn't open the door to the bathroom to let myself out, Luke opened it for me from the other side and then made a joke about keeping me locked up in there. I went from a panic thought of "I can't even open the door!" To a thought of, "This is bad but we're going to get past this."
Hitting bottom can happen more than once. And it can be the most simple things that break you when you are already weak.
After leaving our children for a month, driving out of state for treatment, having an adverse reaction to that treatment that plummeted my health even further, I found myself one morning trying to make oatmeal for my kids. With their help, we were almost there ....I just went to the pantry to get the jar of raisins. I tried to lift it but my wrist screamed in pain and the jar felt heavy and unmovable. I broke. I felt like I was nearly outside of my body, hearing myslef have an emotional break down. I heard myself scream and cry. And standing there before the pantry, I finally turned to see my poor children staring at me wondering what was going on with mommy. I heard myself say, "I just want my body to work!" over and over before I finally pulled it together and hugged my children while repeating, "I'm so sorry."
Chronic pain without hope of relief has a way of uncovering who we really are. My feelings of fear, devastation and panic revealed to me that I wasn't trusting God with my body and my days. I was emotionally stable when my body was "normal" because I felt like I was in control. We never are in control really. It is very healthy to come face to face with that.
In some of my most painful moments, I am ashamed to admit that I was disappointed when I woke up again after sleeping. If suicide had been a mere button that I could push the temptation would likely have been too great for me then. I praise and thank God that suicide does need premeditated thought and thoughts are something that, as a Christian, I am commanded to take captive. In obedience to Christ, those thoughts can be silenced as quickly as they arise. And He gives more grace. He is a good God! His commandments are for our good. His law sets us free and gives us life!
Regarding emotions, I have to end with how pain brought great joy as well!
Our church and family so supported and loved us through this time that I literally felt my cup overflowing with blessing! Some tears were tears of amazement and joy as I was humbled by how much people loved on our family. To list all that was done for me would be almost impossible.
I also experienced in a much deeper way an assurance that Luke loved me. This illness drug on and on and on. We had 5 small children to care for and a job that needed daily attention. Just taking care of me could have been a full time job if you counted the doctor appointments, research, medical papers to keep organized and helping me with everything I had lost the ability to do for myself.
One evening I was on the couch, in and out of sleep. Each time I woke a little I heard Luke's kind and cheerful voice as he cared for the children and made dinner. The chatter and laughter of the kids was like sweet music to me. I fell asleep and dreamed that I was not yet born. I could see Luke but I couldn't get to him. I was overcome with the thought in my dream that "I have to be born so I can marry Luke and have a family with him." Not every day was like that. Somedays the kids were fighting and whining and Luke was struggling to care for them and me. But he never gave up on helping me get well. He loved me and loved me and loved me just as he promised that he would on the day we married each other. In my sickness, his love was confirmed to me again and again. He was always kind to me and he never lost his sense of humor. Even when the trials are dark and difficult a cheerful heart truly does good like a medicine!
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