Monday, July 27, 2015

To My Hurting Friend

To all my friends out there who live with chronic pain... God bless you.  I've gained a new appreciation for what you suffer since having my wisdom teeth removed...My little experience with this is nothing compared to how others suffer, I know, I know.   But I've never had to manage pain beyond a couple days.  This week my life has become all about pain and painkillers and nausea and itching and side effects and what I can and can't eat and struggling to find a position where I can just get relief for a couple minutes. It's about my formerly clean (I mean CLEAN - we didn't have the kids week before last and it was spotless.) house no longer being clean because it hurts too bad to bend over and pick that thing up.   Its about wondering if I'm taking the right amount of medicine and feeling like that's all I ever do.  I can see how so easily people can become addicted to these things.  I've discovered that my day isn't measured by the clock but by the dosages of this or that.  I am constantly counting the hours to remind myself that I need to take this medicine or that at whatever time.

It's exhausting.

And sleep? Sleep is as elusive as a unicorn ridden by a leprechaun through the streets of Atlantis.  How do you do it?  I'm a FREEKIN ZOMBIE!  I'm so tired I can't even think! I've misspelled every word in this post... twice.  And yet, you get up and go to work in the morning!

I struggle to cope and live a normal day in spite of that constant nagging pain, too small to feel justified in complaining about about but too big to ignore completely ... 

This (and probably worse) is what you deal with EVERY. DAY.

So, my hurting friend, by next week I will probably be back to normal and you will go on like you always have.  Through this I've had the teeniest-tiniest of tastes of what you live with day in and day out.  It humbles me that you handle your pain with such grace and for the most part, you never complain.  Even if you did, I probably wouldn't understand it, or you're afraid that I would tire of it, so you never say anything.  I apologize for that.   I apologize for not asking anymore and when I do -tossing out meaningless platitudes for replies.  I don't mean to be utterly insensitive to your pain but to acknowledge it and know I can do nothing to help it is more than I can bear.   So I ignore it or I say things- sometime the absolute wrong things- because in my  mind, something is better than nothing.

Its so hard to admit I'm powerless and I don't have the answer.

My hurting friend, thank you for being faithful to God in the midst of whatever kind of pain you are in right now. Thank you for showing me what grace and determination looks like.  Thank you for allowing me to see your love for God when you "don't feel like it."  I see your pain, I don't make less of it, I know that you are a walking picture of "peace that passeth all understanding."  Because you endure, I know I can when the storms come and things get dark.  You inspire me, though I may never say it and if I could take this pain away from you, right now, I would.

Plato is attributed with saying "Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle."  We don't think that everyone is struggling.  We tend to think that other people have it all together because we constantly hide ourselves.  We say "fine" when we want to cry and we brag on facebook and instagram because we want other people to think we don't have pain. 

We do, physical, emotional, mental, it is the one thing that unites us.  We all suffer.  Different ways, different degrees, but it's always there.   Since it's such a constant in our world it looks like we'd be better at handling it than we are.  Instead of compassion we heap more hurt on people who are already hurting.  We turn our faces away, we pretend it doesn't exist or we bury it inside where all it can do is fester.

That's why I'm thankful we have a God who not only knows of our suffering but came down here to experience it with us.  He not only understands, He sits with us in the midst of the ashes and holds our hand. 

He doesn't ignore it, He doesn't tell us to "suck it up".  He doesn't condemn us or give us words with no substance. He hurts when we hurt.  

So, my hurting friend, I am saying a special prayer for you today. 

Blessings, y'all.