When the pain doesn’t stop…

It’s been a tough few weeks. My body is suffering from a killer “End of School” hangover and the side effects of my latest round of treatment. After a blessed week off, today I start back up with about 5o pills a day, some nasty drops I must take in water, and my nemesis liquid medication that resembles tempura yellow paint and tastes about the same. (Although this is purely conjecture because I have had the good sense to never sample such things. I wasn’t one of the glue eaters in Kindergarten although I may, or may not have, poured the aforementioned glue over the glue eaters head. Hypothetically speaking.)

I penned the following in my journal last week as I endured multiple days in a row of uncontrolled pain. Chronic, unrelenting pain, is unlike anything I have ever experienced. I tried to put words to emotions and thoughts. It made me horribly nauseated to look at a computer screen, so I went old school and used pen and paper. My fingers hurt to even hold the pen, but writing is my therapy and it was write or fall into the abyss of despair that often comes with these flare ups. Maybe this will speak to you, maybe not. But I figured there must be someone out there experiencing unrelenting pain of some type – physical or not. If that’s you, please know you are not alone in your struggle. You are seen by a God who pulls us forward, even when all we can do it just keep breathing. (Check out my favorite song at the end of this post. Many a nights this song has pulled me through.

Love to you all! Keep fighting the good fight.

…weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning. Psalm 30:5

 

When the pain doesn’t stop…

I think may be I am crazy.

When the pain doesn’t stop…

I wonder if in my languishing I am worth anything at all.

When the pain doesn’t stop…

I am disappointed in myself for not being stronger.

When the pain doesn’t stop…

I grieve for the person I once was.

When the pain doesn’t stop…

I’m scared. I’m lonely. I feel small again and want to be held – have someone promise me it will all be okay.

When the pain doesn’t stop…

I wonder if I am at fault or is this really out of my control.

When the pain doesn’t stop…

I fear the look of disappointment in the eyes of my husband and children.

When the pain doesn’t stop…

Sometimes I am able to breathe through it all and surrender.

When the pain doesn’t stop…

I run to you, Lord, my hiding place.

When the pain doesn’t stop…

I crawl into my bed for sweet, soft relief.

When the pain doesn’t stop…

I get up and push through because I’m a mama and that’s what mamas do.

When the pain doesn’t stop…

I spend my days in starts and stops, trying again and again to get up, get moving, push through – only to fall back into bed again because I. Just. Can’t.

When the pain doesn’t stop…

I am grateful for my good days and count my blessings.

When the pain doesn’t stop…

All can see are the bad days and I have a big ole’ pity party in my pajamas.

When the pain doesn’t stop…

I beg for sleep to come because it is the only time I get a break from it all.

When the pain doesn’t stop…

I am overwhelmed with guilt for every minute I spend in this bed.

When the pain doesn’t stop…

I surrender my body, my mind, my schedule, and all that I cling to over to a God who knows my pain intimately, has the power to take it away, but chooses to let it continue because somehow, somewhere, some way, there is purpose even if I don’t see it.

When the pain doesn’t stop…

I wrestle for control, tantrum, cry, whine and yell at God because dammit this isn’t fair!

When the pain doesn’t stop…

I wait.

I wait for a break in the clouds.

I breathe.

I breathe in peace that surpasses all understanding.

When the pain doesn’t stop…

I let go.