Author: thischicksinpeace

If you have ever had an issue with anxiety, you will know what I am talking about.

If you have ever been dealt a life altering blow to your reality that produces a cataclysmic amount of fear and trepidation, you are going to understand what I am talking about.

If you have ever felt like that your life is spinning out of control and that it is no longer your own, you may identify with me.

The root of anxiety is fear, right?

Fear of losing control.

Fear of the unknown.

Fear of the known…like a diagnosis or upcoming treatment plan.

It accompanies anticipation of what most likely has not happened yet but most likely will.

It is the antithesis of hope.

Anxiety keeps you awake at night because it rears its ugly self as soon as your head hits the pillow in the dark and quiet part of the day.

It likes to wake you up out of a deep slumber for no apparent reason.

It crashes into you in a hallway, a store, at work…leaving you almost incapable of making any decision.

Sound familiar?

There are multiple Bible verses that instruct us to not be anxious, to cast our cares on Him, to trust the Sovereign Lord…all this will provide you with peace.

There are a million self help books that teach solution focused ideas for anxiety management.

There are well trained counselors to assist in talking through the dire circumstamces that breed anxiety.

There is medication that can be prescribed to settle the neurons in our brain that will not quit awakening that flight or fight instinct.

All are beneficial.

I have gone to counselors, read books, and even tried medication…the most effective “treatment” however, is to trust the Lord and to release my burdens to Him.

It sounds so trite, doesn’t it?

But, trust me, this is no magic wand experience.

I have things weighing down my heart right now that I can do nothing about. I am afraid of the impending grief that is looming in the future…let’s not forget that “grief care” is my thing– and I am afraid of its warpath.

My heart breaks for those who are hurting that I cannot help..for their anxiety over what they cannot control.

What do I say then to them?

Cast your cares?

Do not be anxious?

Trust the Lord?

I may get spat on.

See, anxiety and pain run deep.

What I want to say…because I am telling my own self this right this very morning…is maybe the anxiety isn’t the bad thing we have been told it is is.

We fight it constantly, don’t we?

We try to purge ourselves of it as if it were an enemy foreign invader.

We will do anything to rid ourselves of it…and sit in shame and weakness because we cannot.

MAYBE we need to sit in the anxiety instead of run from it.

Sounds terrible doesn’t it? I sound like I am off my rocker and officially cracked under the pressure.

How can one possibly function if they are sitting in their anxiety?

Perhaps that is the point.

Half the time, my anxiety surfaces because I keep trying to do what I always do, what I know to do, what this world tells me I must do: go to my job as scheduled, be at every kid activity, smile through said activities, etc…get my point?

Maybe, just maybe, if I cried more, spoke up honestly over what I am feeling/what I want/what I am afraid of or concerned about, or made a choice that would benefit my own personal well-being instead of pleasing others or staying “strong for them”…then maybe I could finally deal with my anxiety.

Casting my cares onto the Lord for He cares for you (where IS that verse?? Can’t remember..) looks like talking to someone who loves me and won’t judge me for my honesty.

Think of that good friend you wail to, the therapist you poured it all out to, the parent who held you as you cried in torment from a nightmare, your spouse who sits next to you in your despair…

Think of all that and more rolled into one package…the Lord of Lords, King of Kings, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace…

THAT is who we take our burdens to.

The tough truth is that I actually have to speak them to Him: I need to wail, I may need to scream, I need to cry my heart out, weep silently, be angry…I need to be honest, real, authentic.

If I am trying to flee from the anxiety then that won’t happen.

In my anxious thoughts, my mind and spirit are trying to tell me that I don’t like this, I don’t want this, help me out of this…If that is the case then I better say so.

I need to tell the Lord that I don’t understand why this is happening, I am terrified, I am broken, I am scared that I just can’t do this, I am angry because I did not ask for this, I am frustrated because I can’t get out of this, I do NOT get His timing, I am not convinced I like His plan, I want a miracle dang it, I want Him to fix this, I want a guarantee that this time/these tears/this experience WILL NOT BE WASTED.

I could go on and on. I need to do it again and again.

Feel my heart here?

The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit…fleeing from what is crushing me will not get me the life preserver I so desperately need.

Think of someone floating in the water after a boat sinking or something…think of the hope they receive when that preserver is tossed to them, the security that suddenly envelopes them…yet they are still in the water.

Jesus is the preserver of my soul…I need to let Him know I need saving help so I can receive His comfort.

I am no different in my situations this morning than I was last night…but I feel calmer. Maybe that is the point of casting my cares…

He cares.

There are days when despair threatens to overwhelm…just when you think you have all possible avenues covered of what is looming ahead…the phone rings and another scenario presents itself.

Watching my friend grieve a loss I so desperately fear is horrible…not to be able to offer comfort is such an incredibly helpless feeling.

Knowing another friend is desperately struggling to find peace and acceptance of her cancer diagnosis and…again…being unable to do one darn thing to help is…

SUCH AN INCREDIBLY HELPLESS FEELING.

Watching the battle of depression and feeling the rejection in it…

Do I need to say it again? I think you are understanding my point here.

My health…

Yup- helpless.

And now one more thing…may be nothing, but it may be something.

But, I don’t think so.

Sometimes you just get that feeling- you know?

I will share it when I am ready but for now know a little/big piece hangs in the balance for a month before we know for sure…

So we get to wait….helplessly.

See a pattern?

Maneuvering when I am so weak is so hard…it is frustrating.

The song about says “surely my God is the strength of my soul…Your love defends me…And when I am weak and all alone- Your love defends me…Your love defends me”.

Seriously, I need someone to fight for me…to defend me…

I can’t do it alone.

I don’t want to.

I don’t want to be afraid of grief…of pain…of sorrow…or suffering.

I want my soul strengthened in spite of it…or maybe because of it.

So, I sit here at a parade…remembering that life goes on, the world keeps turning, candy still gets thrown at cheering little kids waving American flags, movies will be watched on humid, hot Saturdays…

I remember that there is a time for tears but also there is a time for laughter…a season of mourning and a season for dance…

I remember I can be pressed but I will not be crushed.

How do I know?

Because I remember that His love defends ME.

As the reality of the news of the death of someone by the taking of their own life settles on me, the fear I have deep inside me stirs in my bones…threatening to surface from the abyss I had cast it into months ago.

Holding my friend as she cries in agony over this horrific loss of a young girl she loved opened the chasm of that abyss that had been sealed shut….just a crack.

Suicide is a nightmare that will be lived through by the survivors.

Suicidal depression is torture that is painfully experienced by both the one in the chains and the one who stands helplessly by watching the brutality of suffering.

As insomnia threatened me once again..bringing her “friends” fear and anxiety to the surprise party I did not know I was invited to…a moment suddenly came to my memory to shine a light into the darkness that threatened to overcome me.

I saw a young girl the other night. She is the same age as my son…quite beautiful and very talented.

Her mom said she waited on the sidelines of the crowded auditorium for a space to appear in front of me so she could approach freely.

As soon as she did I embraced this precious gift of life so fondly. And she hugged me back with a life that is thriving.

In 2016, her mom called me out of the blue saying her daughter was suicidal and she was desperate for help…what did I think she should do?

What did I think she should do???

Who was I to offer any advice when her child’s desire to live literally hung in the balance?!

Through that time we spoke often, cried together, prayed together…

I encouraged the mom to get help and how to get it…

(I gave her the suicide hotline number and told her to call the pediatrician on call immediately to be told what exactly should be done medically next and where)

As her daughter lay sobbing in her arms that night I was allowed to help.

That is the girl I hugged so fondly.

She is alive.

But even better than that…she is thriving!!

That family does not go to our school so her and I being in the same place at the same time on the night where fear beckoned to me so harshly was nothing short of a gift from God.

It was one, though, I did not see until the wee hours of the morning last night.

Seeing her smiling, excited face tell me she plans to pursue pediatric medicine in my memory gave me the hope I so desperately needed and the reassurance necessary to push back that fear that was calling.

Reassurance that cannot be provided by the one I sought it from…perhaps because he isn’t the one to give it to me in the first place.

This sweet girl’s life gives me something to claim:

Perhaps you need to claim this too on your own behalf or for someone else…

You have a future..and I will see it happen.

God did NOT bring you this far to leave you now in your despair…He is not in the abandoning business.

God did not bring you through, protecting you, guarding you, guiding you, for this to overtake you someday.

I refuse to accept anything else.

I BELIEVE in the One who made you and I believe in the strength He has given to you.

That strength is evident in the courageous choice you make every day to get up and get going regardless of how you feel.

I claim the victory of your life to be something even more amazing than you already are.

As I walked through the bedrooms of the sleeping boys in my house last night, I prayed for them heartily. But then I praised…for my God is merciful and loving.

It is good for me to remember that.

Psalm 143 NLT.

Do you ever feel like you are the disciple Peter who asked Jesus to call him out of the boat to walk on water toward Him but then fell into the depths the second he took his eyes off Christ?

I have chosen to follow Jesus.

I have even asked Him to call me out of the safety of my boat…I have been bold enough at times to take a few steps of faith onto the water!

Then, I sink….I cry out to Jesus while reaching my flailing arms towards Him until He pulls me back up to walk with Him again.

Repeat process.

Sound familiar?

In Romans 4, we are reminded that Abraham believed in hope that God was able to keep the promises He had made…

That belief strengthened his faith even when his circumstances did not change for many years…In fact, Abraham did not see the full fruition of God’s promise to make him a father to many nations- he only saw himself becoming a father to Isaac after years of waiting.

Peter, on the other hand, fell through the water the moment his eyes came off Christ to look instead to the impossible void of swirling water all around him.

His faith was strengthened only when He kept his eyes on Christ.

What is the lesson here?

Abraham new what his problems were…he was acutely aware of what God had promised him but had not yet fulfilled.

Yet…He chose to believe in the promise instead of staring at the circumstance or complaining in the waiting….he of course learned the hard way first before realizing that believing was a much better choice (read the story of Ishmael for a warning about taking matters into your own hands in an effort to speed up the process)!

So..I am being taught that being preoccupied with the problem while trying to walk on water will get me nowhere..

Having hope in what I already have is no hope at all (Romans 8:24)…Who hopes for what they already have?

So “against all hope, Abraham believed..he did not waiver but was STRENTHENED in his faith because he was fully convinced that God had the power to do what He had promised” (Romans 4:19-21).

I need to trust that God will finish what He started and to have faith that He is the ultimate Promise Keeper. I need to have hope in what I believe and not what I already have for the promises of my life have not been fulfilled.

Give me faith to keep my eyes above the waves Lord and to keep turning my face to You instead of what threatens to pull me under. Help me to stand and believe in hope against hope.

I like a song by Hawk Nelson that says God “is making diamonds out of dust” when the pressure is on. Well frankly, as of late, I feel like I am being refined in the fire of life.

There is, and has been, quite a bit that has been swirling around me over these last few years. I have had not one but two opportunities to actually summarize the events since 2014 over the course of 2 days to explain either “my stress level” or how God has carried me through…depending on who was listening.

As I listed said events and added to that pile my current situation, I cannot help but feel affirmed that there is a purpose for it all.

My experiences have not been “let’s make a movie out of your life” tragic, but they have been constant and fairly oppressive at times as I had to learn to work through each one.

For me, the process looked like:

• Being angry
• Accepting what is instead of fighting against it
• Letting go and being in the moment

Trust me….it was always a struggle and a process!!

Reading my Bible this morning, I see something in Jeremiah that echoed in me.

Now, I have been saying lately to a loved one that I identify with Jeremiah the prophet…feeling as if I could “be” a weeping prophet too…

He agreed as he says I cry alot when I speak….whatever.

But here we are with something that completely resonates with meaning for me in regards to the suffering of Jeremiah.

Jeremiah calls to God for relief and essentially God’s response is “buddy, if you think this is bad, what are you going to when times get really tough?”

Ugh.

Jeremiah 12:5 If racing against mere men makes you tired, how will you race against horses? If you stumble in the open ground, what will you do in the thickets??

My life looks as different from yours as yours does from your neighbor…that’s ok because we are all created for different things. We have different life skills and opinions because our God is a creative Lord who enjoys variety!

That being said, I am being led into the direction of some form of ministry leadership. That Call puts me on a specific path of training to equip me to handle certain things I will encounter in the future.

If I stumble now how will I function then?

I need to be trained to stand.

Somehow, perhaps it is seeing a purpose in the pain, I find a comfort in recognizing the process of equipping me.

Jeremiah did too.

I am on an unexpected leave of absence from my job due to my recent hospitalization/illness…it is a strange thing to be unable to go to work when you feel you are able to work. Alas, I am home…not home-bound per se but at home none-the-less.

What do I do with this time I ask?

There is so much happening around me that I cannot help but try to process things. There are situations that have occurred over the last six months that  still cause me to shake my head  in absolute astonishment that these things have happened…throw in the most current events and I am in a state of shock I think. These last few weeks have been good for me to let my brain work through whatever it has needed to.

That being said- what do I do with this time off of work?

The advice I have been given is to write.

Write what, I ask in return?

Just start and see where it goes…

I want to write…it’s not that I don’t. It’s just that I am starting to think I am to be doing something more with my writing. All this stuff coming down around me paired with too much time on my hands wakes up a desire in me to do more with it. I could be feeling impatience perhaps, trying to rush the process,  but all this stuff in my head is somehow making my thinking more clear about what it is I want with to do my life…

But, topic -focus is my nemesis…and self-promotion is not something I am good at …sooooo~

I am going to stick with what I do best and write what is on mind for the moment.

I am stuck on the issue of the “goodness of God” I think.

It is not so much that I question if He is good as it is more the question what is good.

Good to me is not  watching depression darken the day of someone who has so much to live for and to helplessly stand there watching it carry them wherever it will no matter how hard you try to hold onto them.

Good to me is not Stage 4 metastatic cancer in anyone let alone a beautiful 42 year wife,  mother, and my friend.

Good is not fearing life without someone I love due to illness or a deep dark pain.

Good to me is not doubting every choice I make based on the opinion of those I thought I trusted but who have absolutely no idea what is going on in my life right now.

Good to me is not being afraid to go for my dreams.

Good to me is not feeling pain and sorrow.

Yet we live a life experiencing all of this and then some…

Therefore, what is good?

A few years ago, I became a Christian. My husband, however, was not one and did not feel the need to follow the same path that I was on. Being separated from him on this issue began to create a distance between us which made me feel uncertain of our future together and his eternal ending place. I loved my husband and wanted to spend my life with him…why would I not want to spend eternity together as well?

My church offered a prayer room during that time; it provided a quiet place to pray at an alter if desired, candles to light, soft music to play, and a cork board to place prayer requests.

I remember very clearly anonymously writing down on a purple circle to post on that board for others  to join me in my heartfelt prayer for the salvation of my husband.

I would spend at least an hour a week in that room.

I remember sitting in there and crying for something I longed so desperately for but did not have…and did not know if I ever would have it.

I remember leaving that request in the lap of the Lord after I had cried it through with the only One who could hear me and help me.

How a room like that could be useful now!

In that time, I would play a CD that was provided as I prayed- remember, this was few years ago when ITunes was only just becoming popular! On the CD was a mix of praise and worship songs – geesh, I am really dating myself now!

One song really stood out to me was by Laura Story…I heard her song again today and it still hit its mark…

The good I long for is seemingly limited to what I have chosen to define good as…

“What if trials of this life: the rain, the storms, the hardest nights….are Your mercies in disguise??”

Isn’t that the good I long for? Mercy?

When I pray for His mighty hand to heal my suffering or of those around me and He instead offers me Himself… and reveals His path of grace that has led me to the place where the suffering occurs to show where He has equipped me, prepared me, taught me, protected me, loved me all this time…do I accept that as good?

Is goodness only in the healing of cancer? the alleviation of depression? the clear path of my future with my destiny handed to me in package tied with a bow? when my friends stand by me in trials instead of judge or reject me out of misinformation or hurt feelings?

Is God good only when I can sense His presence and hear His voice giving me wisdom and guidance?

He “hears each desperate plea and longs that we’d have faith to believe…”

Believing in what is good is believing in what I cannot see…

That takes some serious faith.

Trusting in what I cannot see, do not understand, and cannot control while the storms rage or the rain falls…can be a blessing in disguise?

My good is not necessarily God’s good.

How He chooses to work things out falls into place with HIS plan and not the plan I create with my limited view.

Wrapping my brain around the idea that there is good to be found in cancer is not easy…in fact, it is an intentional act to choose to look deep enough into it to find something…

But a friendship has been rekindled and a new appreciation for the relationship that has once been taken for granted has been forged through this fire….that is good.

Seeking out a sign of goodness that can be found in severe depression takes effort because the wear and tear of the disease is exhausting for the person who suffers from it and those who live in the wake of it…

But I have realized that I have a larger capacity to love than I ever thought possible and a surprisingly immense quantity of patience ready to use at my disposal in a situation that should scream for impatience…that is good.

Searching for answers of how to proceed to achieve my dreams is anxiety producing…

But I find assistance from some surprising sources that seem to believe that I do have something to offer this world…that is good.

What if Your blessings come through raindrops?

What if Your healing comes through tears?

What if a thousand sleepless nights are what it takes to know You’re here?

What if my greatest disappointments and the aching of this life is the revealing of a greater thirst this world can’t satisfy?

In plenty or in want, I want to learn the secret of contentment…it is from the Living Well  where I will thirst no more and be satisfied.

That is good.

A good friend has described this time in my life as  “going through the wilderness“.

The interesting timing of this wilderness experience that I am going to my first District License interview in a matter of weeks and my concern is I will “blow it” with my authenticity.

In the Church of the Nazarene, there are steps one takes to become an ordained elder (or minister). Essentially this is the process:

I have completed “step 1” of taking classes at the Nazarene Bible College for Ministry Preparation.

“Step 2” is being approved by my local church to receive what is called a local license of ministry which is basically my church recognizing that God has called me out of a lay ministry into a more formal ministry path- we call it a “call on my life”.

“Step 3” is to be recommended by my local church to be interviewed by the larger district council to receive a license that is more widely recognized to be seen as minister in training.

“Step 4″ is finishing my requirements for ordination and being approved by the council to proceed as an Ordained Elder for the Church of the Nazarene worldwide.

My interview to begin this next step, which will ultimately pave the way for my ordination in a few years, is May 14.

It is in my current life struggles  that I am somewhat concerned that I will be told “I am not ready” or that “I am not stable enough to minister” because of how I may emotionally respond to some of the questions they ask. I can only answer one way- with 100% honesty and how that is perceived is in whatever manner they discern.

I want to stress, though, that I am not concerned that this interview will determine my worth nor that it confirms what I know God has set me forth to do…but I don’t want to self-sabotage myself either!

However, I read this thought process and found it appropriate for all of us as we get battered by life and still go out to do the work God called us to:

Psalm 126:5-6 ~Those who plant in tears will harvest with shouts of joy. They weep as they go to plant their seed, but they sing as they return with the harvest (NLT).

We may cry (be broken even) as we go do the work we are called to do but when it is done we will be joyful to see its completion from our obedience.

“God’s ability to restore life is beyond our understanding. Forests burn down and are able to grow back. Broken bones can heal. Even grief is not a permanent condition. Our tears can be seeds that will grow into a harvest of joy because God is able to bring good out of tragedy. When burdened by sorrow, know that your times of grief will end and that you will again find joy. We must be patient while we wait. God’s great harvest of joy IS coming!” (NIV Life Application Study Bible)

I am posed with these questions today:

“Can you still encourage and build even when you are facing your own life crisis? Can you still point others to where their source of strength lies when you are in one of your darkest moments?”

(The 365 Most Important Bible Passages for Mothers 145)

Well can I???

In my quest for authenticity, I struggle with writing when my reality becomes a crushing pressure. I want to write my thoughts and feelings…even the deep, dark, ugly truths…but I fear my intensity will be misunderstood as something other than real…I doubt whether people really want the truth or if they are more content with believing the surface appearance that I have it all together?

Well…

Jesus told us that in this world we will have troubles but to take heart because He overcame this world…and the troubles in it.

That means, Christ follower or not, I will have pain…trials…suffering…illness…doubts that plague me…grief…fear…

Having peace in the midst of it all is the purpose of this blog…I guess that means I am going to be challenged in my purpose.

The picture above was from last night. It was 2:30 in the morning and I was awake on the couch under the comforting weight of a 90lb black lab on loan and my own sweet- pea shitzu, Max.

I had a good day yesterday. I felt pretty decent for the first time in a few weeks. The weather was nice outside which allowed for the windows to be open to let the spring air inside. My guys all seemed content with where they were in life and in our home. We had some good friends stop by for a fun, laughter filled visit. The son of my heart made us a yummy dinner to enjoy as a family around the table.

I went to sleep with a smile watching the antics of Chip Gaines on TV’s Fixer Upper.

I woke up with a start at 1:30 am…a cry was on my lips that almost escaped verbally as I surfaced to awareness. My heart suddenly squeezed tight as one word threatened to leave my throat in a guttural scream from deep within my stomach: “NOOOO!”

As I silenced the sound I instantly found my breath was gone and I could not breathe.

I quickly sat up and realized the panic for what it was…It had snuck up on me and ambushed me in its attack in the vulnerability of my sleep.

As a follower of Jesus, I am well versed in the scriptures…I have quoted so many here over this beginning year of blogging; I can hear them in my sleep speaking truth into my subconscious.

I believe that in perfect love there is no fear.

I believe that was intended for evil God has  and can use for His good.

I believe that God works all things together for His good for those who love Him and are called according to His purpose.

I believe that God IS love itself.

I believe that God is the embodiment of good.

I believe that only good and perfect things come from God and NOT the illness or brokenness of this world.

BUT:

These last few weeks have challenged my faith in ways I did not see possible.

It makes me wonder if me “saying that out loud” is helpful to someone else??

The inconvenience of my own health issues…the uncertainties of the treatment…the ongoing twists and turns as I heal slowly…has rattled my cage. It limits me. It fatigues me. It isolates me. It makes me feel weak as I strain to grasp my new reality while I adjust to living in a body that does not feel like my own.

This is my truth.

Here is my devotional: “No matter what our circumstances, there is a larger battle raging and we all have an assignment to do”…

The “NO” and panic were not about me…I do not appreciate my own health condition but it is a small part of the larger battle being fought. However, its ability to shake me has its devastating effect on my coping and fighting skills.

I have a friend that, when we met 17 years ago or so, we knew there was something special between us. We felt that kindred spirit flowing between us from the first conversation we ever had in a parking garage after work one morning.

Girlfriend’s are truly God’s gift to us, aren’t they?

Over the years we have grown up and grown apart, come together and distanced again…as life took each of us on the different curvy roads we travelled.

Our families are friends…our children the same age…we know the ins and outs of each other’s family relationships as well as we know each other’s kitchen cupboards.

She has metastatic cancer.

There. I said it.

I am a grief “counselor” of sorts…and I am collapsing in my pain of the possibility of not having her in my life. The grief is unbearable. The pain is unrelenting. It leaves in my waking hours as I search for things to be thankful for…but it comes with a crashing blow in my sleep and takes my breath away.

I help others. I encourage others.

Yet, I struggle intensely with this.

I have had loss…I have had beauty made out of the ashes of my life…I know God is faithful…

But I hurt in ways I cannot express except through a panic attack in my sleep and tears that come without warning.

She is beautiful, loving, funny…and mortal. She is a fighter to her core with a strength that belies her small frame. I will fight with her and for her every step of the way as I am allowed. We will not quit until the race is finished.

“A good soldier stays focused and pleases his commander”…I have a job to do as an encourager because it is what I have been created for…I desire to please God with my obedience to do the task set before me…but I am battle worn.

With the battle scars that have been created lately still raw and fresh, I need to push on. As the depression that threatens to overwhelm me washes over me in waves, I need to endure. When hopelessness beckons and threatens to take me on a path filled with despair and lies, I need to hang onto my anchor of truth.

Joyce Meyer’s “Closer to God Each Day” devotional instructs that “one part of fighting the good fight of faith is being able to recognize the enemy…to choose to take action…”

We don’t use this as much anymore as we used to but the analogy is still pretty clear:

“You and I don’t have to be punching bags for the devil; instead we can be fighters. We can stand firm in faith and know that God IS good and that good things are going to happen to us…Stand firm! Fight! Lift up your shield of faith!”

As my doubts rage on and my feelings try to pull me under, I choose to find reasons to be thankful and post them on Facebook. As my anger boils under the surface, I choose to listen to my “Jesus Music” (as my son’s call it). As my attention span seems limited, I choose to spend time in the Word and seek for whatever the Lord will have me read.

I live my days lately where the Lord feels distant…but I see Him looking down on His Son as Jesus looked up to Him in the heavens crying out “why have You forsaken Me” while on the cross…He stands as a Father watching His child in agony with tears streaming down His own cheeks.

He is doing the same with me.

When will He intercede? When will He bring good from all this? I don’t know.

But He is watching me…and loving me just the same.

Bear  with me while on this journey… I do not know where it will lead but I do know I  will be honest in it.

Bruises are funny things.

In my nursing profession, I know them to mean that a collection of blood has formed under the surface of skin. If the discoloration grows or spreads in the beginning stages, or makes a lump under the surface (we call that a hematoma) then the bleeding has not ceased but continues- which requires manual pressure to the site, a form of coagulation, or even surgery to stop the flow of blood.

After the bleeding stops under the surface, this interesting pattern of color appears. As the blood cells are reabsorbed the color changes more until the skin returns to its original tone.

The bruise tells the story.

The size and location speak to the injury.

The color determines the time of the healing process.

However, it is not like a scar, which may forever stick with you. A bruise will disappear after time and take with it all the physical memories while leaving the emotional ones on the inside for only you to see….whereas a scar is there for the world to see for a much longer period of time- if it goes away at all or simply fades.

I have bruises on my body that are healing and will go away to leave me to process the memory of my recent experience of illness..and I will gain more as the recovery process begins to bring about stabilization.

But, I have loved ones who have scars.

And their scars have, in fact, bruised me in a different way than an IV or multiple blood draws ever could.

Their pain affects me in a place where only I feel the affects and feel the bruise. Only I can feel the manual pressure held onto my heart to stop the bruise from spreading and then watch it change colors slowly with its healing.

Just to be bruised again.

My bruises will heal while their scars will remain.

This is what I am learning about being bruised:

Loving someone means you feel their pain with them…even it gets messy or complicated.

Loving someone means you stay put under the pressure even when the bruising hurts and you want to be freed from the press that is crushing you.

Loving someone means to forgive them for being hurtful because they hurt….Jesus said “Father forgive them for they know not what they do” as He was being “hurt” through His crucifixion- what an example to follow!

Loving someone means being patient in the affliction….there is not always a set time table to a resolution and we all know problems don’t happen at a convenient time either.

My bruises are healing but I will be bruised again- this I know.

I can’t help but to stay put, to step into the battle, to intercede, to beg for mercy, to shower those I love with love- whether it is received well or perceived as a nuisance…I can’t stop anymore than I can stop breathing.

Our bodies were made to handle the bruising, to contain the injury, and to heal…

So was my spirit.

Psalm 16:11 tells me that God has made known to me the path of life

(past tense- He has shown me already His plan through Jesus so the search should be over about what path to follow- I choose LIFE)

He will fill me with joy in His presence…

(I better keep getting into it then)

Stage 4 cancer has bruised me.

The war on depression has bruised me.

Fear of the unknown has bruised me.

Anxiety over the choices others can make that have the ability to deeply wound me has bruised me.

My own limitations and weaknesses in situations have bruised me.

But…with God’s grace, I will stay and allow myself to be available to be bruised again because I choose to live a life of loving others.

Jesus Calling writes that God will never lead me to do something without first equipping me for the task.

I have been equipped to heal and to stand again.

So…using words I choose to take out of context and inject deeper meaning into…I will go with you.

Help me, Lord, to be joyful in hope and faithful in prayer as I go where the hurting happens.

Take caution: severe vulnerability up ahead.

Cancer comes back and takes on bizarre forms that you are completely unprepared for- no matter how much you think you know about cancer.

Depression doesn’t just “go away” and can resurface its nasty daggers back into wounds you thought were healing….leaving you challenged to face temptations that are still too easily within your reach.

Infections can form at the most inopportune time and in the most unfortunate places that force you to be humbled beyond measure-more than you ever thought possible- for a need of assistance from others.

Remission may only be an illusion or temporary.

I wrote this from a hospital bed where I was in need of help from others to do things I have done for others as an RN for almost 25 years.

And…it…sucked (forgive my language-my son says that is a swear word).

But…it.did…bad. And the memory of what happened paired with the journey yet to come still does.

Without detail, let’s just say I am mortified at what I need help with.

I hate it.

I appreciate the help I am receiving but it is something I have not wanted to deal with ever since I was diagnosed with Crohn’s disease at the ripe old age of 14.

I find myself crying uncontrollably at the inability to make this be something it is not…to make it “look better” , to “disguise it” with a pretty coat or make up as if the appearance will change the shape of the actual condition.

Does that make any sense?

But no matter the look of the package the reality of what the package actually is remains.

You see, whatever you may be dealing with, be it cancer, depression, illnesses, or whatever else, it can’t be hidden or disguised because they just are there.

I am not saying they define me or you…I am saying that medical conditions may lay dormant or can be hidden from public view but that does not negate the fact that they are there.

Here is my problem- and many have this same one- I have thought that the treatment is the cure when in actuality it is the process of recovery that leads to the healing.

This has been my thinking:

I take my medicine so therefore I should be fine.

I eat healthy so therefore I should be fine.

I go to therapy and make significant life changes so therefore I should be fine.

I have surgery to remove the tumor and chemo to kill the cancer so therefore should be fine.

I have surgery to drain the abscess and have pain significantly diminished so therefore I should be fine.

Fine can be relative folks.

I am not trying to be pessimistic as I am usually an optimistic person…but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t be more realistic.

My perspective is forced to shift as I am struggling with my own pain, my own future uncertainties and adjustments, and as I wait to watch the process in those I love deepest as they deal with their own future uncertainties.

For me, therefore, hope cannot be found in the cure only…because, perhaps, there is no cure but only a recovery process.

The hope has to be in something so much more as hopelessness beckons me and so many others. It has to be grasped onto sooner and not in the promise of the cure or healing.

I need the light to shine on me in the process, in the pain, in the questions…

I need warmth in the cold of disillusionment.

So here I am…challenged to cling to what I believe and not what I feel. I am challenged to live the faith I encourage others to have. I am challenged to practice what I preach.

So…

My process looks like crying.

It is listening to music that contain words meant to wash over me and through me and beg for their truth to resonate within me.

It is to spend time with my mom.

It is to lay in bed with my boys and just be with them.

It is holding hands with my husband.

It is talking to my friend on the phone and simply let myself give into the love I have for her.

It is enjoying the simple pleasures of life like listening to the child of my heart humming, eating cake he and my son made for me, watching my husband laugh with our other son and play with our dog.

The process of recovery is not a fun place to be.

I am not thankful for the circumstances around me one little bit.

But I want to be thankful for the lessons that come from it all.