on days when the pain is inescapable...

Today the pain is inescapable. My physical pain has been really intense this week, nauseating at times. And moreover, I continue to see brokenness all around me in my own life and in the lives of others. Life is hard. But it doesn't do any good to stop there. I have been commanded to not complain (Phil 2:14).

So...here is what I do on days (like today) when the pain is inescapable. This list is not exhaustive. And my human responses are not perfect. But here's how I'm handling today.

-I shut the blinds, turn down the A/C and crawl under the covers hoping that at least the migraine will leave

-I choose humility and accept the wheelchair and an offer to push me to dinner

-I journal, collecting my thoughts, my prayers, my fears, my thanks.

-I pray for him, this man God has blessed me with

-I "feed on His faithfulness" (Psalm 37) and remind myself how He's always been faithful

-I press repeat and hear Christy Nockel's sweet voice reminding me of the simple truth that Jesus Loves Me in the form of a lullaby.

-I prepare to take my girls to the women's event on campus and pray that it will open up good conversations

-I update my gratitude journal

-I preach the Truth to myself (like Psalm 103)

-I remind myself that my life is all about dying

-I thank Jesus for the chance to minister and love on these girls He's placed in my hall and the friends that surround me as well

-I hold my Bible tight, my fingers caressing the tear-stained pages and force myself to be re-amazed at the Gospel, which I often take for granted.

-I thank Jesus for adopted little sisters (you know who you are!!) who fill in when my own can't be here

-I sent texts of love to my baby sisters and tell them how proud I am of them

-I confess my sin, acknowledging and agreeing with God about what it is and refusing to put pretty labels on it or make excuses

-I pull out a favorite devotional and see how saints through the ages have endured

-I delight in the fact that I'm going to Heaven where I will see Jesus (Rev 21-22) and all will be right.

one year

(this is an adaption of a paper that I wrote for one of my professors earlier in the semester)

It has been 12 months since I got sick. 12 months of constant pain. 12 months of doctors’ appointments and medication. 12 months of explaining to friends and strangers. 12 months of fighting every day. I never want to pretend it’s easy – it’s not. But in addition to all the awful parts, it’s been 12 months of relying on God’s faithfulness daily. 12 months of learning to surrender. 12 months of a body reminding me to yearn for heaven. 12 months of seeing the people of God rally around in support. 12 months of sharing how He’s gotten me through. 12 months of constant mental repetition of Truth. 12 months of remembering that the Christian life is about dying to self. While being sick is changing how I think about my future (i.e. what jobs I will have, whether or not I will ever be a wife and a mother, what my body will be able to do in 5 years), I am reminded that my illness has in no way changed God’s plans for my future. Suffering on this earth is temporary (even though it doesn’t feel very temporary) and the Christian life is not to be confused with the American dream.