I had my body stolen when I was twelve.
No, it wasn't alien abduction. Although that would be pretty cool if it meant I could ride in a Tardis. Never mind if you don't get that, just shake your head at me and move on. :) What I mean is, since I was about twelve years old, I've suffered from a chronic pain condition that is difficult to treat and poorly understood by most doctors. In the past, I've likened it to having my Ferrari stolen and being given a rusty jalopy in which to hobble to life's finish line. The idea of waking up each morning refreshed and energetic completely mystifies me. I'm usually reaching for pain pills and adding up time fragments to figure out how many hours of sleep I actually got. By the end of the day, it's easier to name body parts that don't hurt. And though I'm exhausted, I find it difficult to fall asleep in less than two hours.
Maybe you can relate.
Realistically speaking, this condition isn't really curable for most people. I've prayed for healing. Years ago, a well-meaning friend encouraged me to "claim" verses like Psalm 103:3 (The Lord is the one who forgives all your iniquity and heals all your diseases.) I was so convinced for a while that God would heal my body completely if I just believed he would and asked with a pure heart. The truth is, God can do whatever he wants with his pots of clay. I have no right to "claim" the fulfillment of his promises in my own way and time. I have to wait for his best for me. But that's another blog post. For now, the bottom line seems to remain the same:
Pain is going to be a big part of my life. Here's part of the reason I think that:
"So to keep me from becoming conceited because of the surpassing greatness
of the revelations, a thorn was given me in the flesh, a messenger of Satan
to harass me, to keep me from becoming conceited. Three times I pleaded with the Lord
about this, that it should leave me. But he said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you,
for my power is made perfect in weakness.' Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of
my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me.
For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong." --2 Corinthians 12:7-10
Please understand, I am in NO way comparing myself to the great apostle Paul. I haven't been dealing with the "surpassing greatness" of any major revelations lately, except that butternut squash purée can go into just about any recipe. But I still need to be humbled. And like Paul, physical pain is one way my heavenly Father chooses to accomplish that. Another reason I know I'm supposed to be in pain is that I didn't choose it, yet it's still here.
If you've read my blog for any length of time, you might have discovered I'm a mom. For Approximately half that time, I'm a single mom because my hubby The Captain is off flying planes. Don't get me wrong. I love our lifestyle because when he's home, he's usually home for days. But that means I have to find a way to function when I'm alone with three Short People.
I have asked God, if he won't heal me, to at least show me how to get better...
Juicing? Nutritional therapy? Supplements? Drugs? See a chiropractor? Get a massage? (The answer to that last one is always a yes, by the way.) But this is an area where the Lord has been pretty quiet and is asking me to trust him. I've tried all sorts of lifestyle modifications and therapies, with some limited improvements. If you have a theory, I've probably already heard it. And, I have been taking pain meds on and off for about seven years, just to function. And ya know what, they help. They help a LOT.
And that is now my big, fat dilemma.
If you know anything about prescription pain meds, you know they start to lose their effectiveness unless you keep switching up or increasing your dose. That seemed fine to me, because it was working for the moment. I wasn't really looking beyond the next year or two. But I just got a big wake up call over the weekend. There was a bunch of complication and drama that arose and my refill didn't come when I was expecting it to. I was forced into full-on cold turkey mode. And then I realized…
This is only going to get harder.
If I think this sucks now, just wait till I've been on these drugs another ten years and my body doesn't know what to do without them. What if I live till I'm 90? Do I really expect another 55+ years of playing this game to work out well? Sounds like a winding, crooked path to me. I think that, without realizing it, I had begun to allow myself to see those pain meds as life-giving. They made me feel and act like a normal person. But I'm not a normal person. I'm a person whom God has chosen for pain in order to bring glory to himself. And those drugs aren't life-giving, they're actually pretty hard on my body. They're great for short-term situations and I'd use them in a heartbeat for that, but this is different. It is not God's will for me that I destroy my body for a few hours' respite each day. And it's definitely not his will that I look to another savior. Because my life's purpose is not to run from the weight of pain in search of temporary fixes, as if I'm convinced that God won't really be enough to sustain what he has created to enable me to do what he's asked.
I don't know what the answer is right now.
I don't know what life is like any more without pain drugs to help me cope. Quite honestly, I'm a bit freaked out at the idea. It won't be a Sunday afternoon picnic, but I'm more concerned about missing what God has for me, just because I wanted my life to be easy. I know what he's asking, and I know he's calling me to stop fearing pain, but instead embrace it so that he can meet me there.
"Therefore lift your drooping hands and strengthen your weak knees,
and make straight paths for your feet, so that what is lame may not be put out of joint
but rather be healed." —Hebrews 12:12-13
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