Journaling PAIN

This blog post is unusual. In it, you will find three of my journal writings from years past.

Unlike typical unedited journal entries, I have revised these. I didn’t want you swimming around trying to make sense of my thoughts.

The entries focus on physical suffering. It’s not my intention, however, to dismiss the many other ways in which we may suffer. Suffering of any kind has many similarities. Rather, pain is just where I tend to live.

For those who suffer physically, I hope you will find some comfort, strength, encouragement, and even a chuckle in what you read.

For everyone else, may you continue to grow in your sensitivity and understanding of those who suffer. We all have room for improvement. If you read carefully; I believe you’ll discover simple ways to support those who live with chronic pain.

March 4, 2010

I don’t enjoy all the long-tiring-fatiguing conversations that sometimes result when sharing about my health. Last week, I tried to move away from a woman going on about a book she read that might help me, while also claiming healing in my life. I kept telling her I just need to get home and rest. (A priority I’m always working on.) Perhaps she was claiming my ultimate healing when I’m with the Lord. Had I stood there much longer, it may have happened!  

Then there was a gal in our Life Group who clipped an article out about a Fibromyalgia solution (Not really my issue.) But certainly, a well-intended effort to help.

And how could I forget the phone call at 10:00 PM? The “urgent” message to stop drinking diet soda! (So much for the 3 cans before bedtime routine.) Seriously, when I’m tired and hurting, it’s a challenge politely responding, “Well, thank you, but I don’t drink diet soda. I don’t drink any soda. It’s all bad for you.”

Yes, people mean well and just want to help. Though remedies and even healing sometimes aren’t what sufferers need. At least not the healing we usually think of. I am very aware of my health problem and the solutions. People can instead encourage me to listen and follow how the Lord is directing me on this journey. My illness is hard to navigate, but I hope to prevent flares and minimize pain. While realizing and accepting, I will probably never achieve a pain-free body.

My goal is to learn and apply the things needed to survive this intrusion in my life. Even if that takes a long time. If I am “healed” tomorrow, I can’t learn those things. In my case, the Lord is often waiting on me—not me on him.

Not easy explaining that to others, especially when people just want to see you well. I get that. No one wants healing more than me!

August 8, 2010

(I journaled a note to send to a friend. Words to encourage us both.)

Dear Tracy,

“It is in the quiet crucible of your personal private sufferings that your noblest dreams are born, and God’s greatest gifts are given in compensation to what you’ve been through.” Author Unknown

I am so sorry to hear that your A.S. has flared up again. You were really doing better. I understand your discouragement, pain, and discomfort. It’s difficult, in fact, impossible, to understand why God allows these tough times in our lives. And hardly comforting to say he has his reasons, even though he does.

When I’m in pain and fatigued, I sense a closeness to God that I can’t explain. I think it’s because only God comprehends my discouragement in those moments. We talk, I know he’s listening. I cry. I know he cries with me.

The believer knows God can reside so closely his presence eases even the greatest sufferings.  

His presence can overtake the ticking of the clock at night when the pain seems endless. It might enter through the hopeful words of a song. Or a familiar verse the mind clings to when hurting.

There’s a special club for those who suffer. It exists between us and God, and others like us. I believe club members realize their life possesses something unique, granted only to the brave and strong. Though it takes time to come to that realization.

The Christian sufferer offers a remarkable testimony that brings hope to others.

I also know we didn’t ask to be in this club! So, I will pray for you, in the areas you mentioned, and in other ways only us “clubbies” understand. And check in on you, just to remind you, I’m here and I care.

August 19, 2016

I remember a story from when our son, Jake, was young, and we were in Nicaragua. I told our kids this trip might be rough (as some mission trips are), but just—do your best.

Within the first two days of the trip, our son smashed his head against a car windshield star-bursting the glass, he tripped and rolled down a hill gathering chiggers and a tick along the way, and fell down a steep, short-set of rough wooden stairs. Bruised, hurting, and itching, with an ear swollen the size of Dumbo’s! Thanks to the tick. The third morning, I approached the bunk bed of one weary little boy. Leaning over him, I asked, “How are you doing?”

Without even a slight move of his head, he whispers courageously, “I’m doing my best.”

I don’t always know what others expect of me. I don’t always comprehend what God expects of me. But I know the pain I live with often leads me to say, “I’m doing my best.” And, just like my son, I realize that’s enough.

May our Lord help you in offering grace to others who suffer. When you fight through your own pain, please remember to offer grace to yourself as well!