I’m not the most patient person at
waiting and intense pain makes me feel restless. So, while I impatiently waited,
I fiddled with all the lights, dismantled the spine model, and peeked into
every drawer. I began reading all the wall literature, aloud, just in case my
husband was bored too. There’s the standard “Rate Your Pain” sign, and the
“Patient’s Rights” sign, and the “Breathe” sign, it was actually an acronym
“B.R.E.A.T.H.E.” Of course, each letter stood for something different; each one
with the same basic advice to “remember to breathe” and to “think of something
else,” this sign irritated me. I turned to my husband and said, sarcastically,
“Look, I’m breathing in and out right now and guess what? It isn’t helping!”
The lack of sleep and the horrible pain made me a little more than crabby. Pain
is an insidious enemy; it has a way of crushing a person’s will.
That night the pain became
almost too much to bear. Along with the pain came something I’d never experienced
before, a full-scale panic attack. The air in the kitchen felt like it had been
completely sucked out and I was suffocating. The pain was like a
white-hot knife jabbing me, I couldn’t focus and the room began to dip and
sway. I felt terrified and needed to escape. I ran for the door and stumbled
onto the front porch, and I clung to a pillar for support. The cool October air
was just what I needed, it felt refreshing as I drew in a deep, calming…breath
(yes, the irony wasn’t lost on me either). After that point of concession, I began gulping the air into my lungs.
It seemed like I stood on the
porch for hours, even though it was probably only minutes. I stood there
weeping and feeling utterly defeated. My husband came outside too, he didn’t
know what to do or say; he just stood there with me. I began praying, but I was
at such a loss for words that all I could get out was, “God, I need you.” After
that I just let the Holy Spirit do the rest of the talking (Rom. 8:26-27).
Everything seemed very still as I looked at the broad expanse of the sky, but even in the stillness I felt God’s presence surrounding me. A gentle breeze brushed
my face. It was as if that cool breeze was sent just for me, a breath from
heaven sent to dry my tears, to let me know that He cared about what I was
going through.
It’s been eight years and
some months since that night, and even after a cervical fusion, I still deal with the nerve pain, which is a roller coaster ride of highs and lows. I can sympathize with Paul when he had pleaded with the Lord to remove
the thorn from his flesh. I would love my thorn to be removed, but I know that
my pain and the continuous pattern of good days and bad are here for the
duration of my life. The reason I can come to terms with this is because, like
Paul, I know that God’s grace is indeed sufficient and that His power is
made perfect in my weakness (2 Cor. 12:8-10).
I firmly believe that
everything happens for a reason. I don’t believe in misfortune or even luck
(good or bad), I believe in providence. God is working things out for the good
of those who love Him. He is working out His goals in my weak flesh. God’s
decisions have a purpose, if for no other reason than to strengthen my
character, to fine tune me into the woman He needs me to be (Jam. 1:2-4;
Rom. 5:3-5). I’m not trying to sound noble or like a martyr; I just don’t
want to miss the lesson because I’ve focused on the wrong thing.
When we are focused on the wrong thing we find ourselves looking down, literally and figuratively.
Charlie Brown described it best, “This is my depressed stance. When you're
depressed, it makes a lot of difference how you stand. The worst thing you can
do is straighten up and hold your head high because then you'll start to feel
better. If you're going to get any joy out of being depressed, you've got to
stand like this.” I spent my fair share of time mimicking this stance. If we look up though, that's when we can
see what the Lord wants us to see, that the world is filled with hurting people
(in one form or another). We can’t give a hurting and dying world Jesus if
we’re looking at our own feet.
I
like to read through the Book of Psalm, it is filled with so much motivation
and hope. I can reach in and find so many passages that offer comfort in times
of distress and fear. Have you ever noticed a sentiment that is repeated quite
frequently? It’s “Praise the Lord,” we are to Praise the Lord in the midst of our fear, we are to Praise the Lord in the midst of our joy,
we are to “Be joyful always; pray continually; give thanks in all
circumstances, for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus” (1
Thes. 5:16-18, emphasis mine).
The Book of Psalm begins with the exhortation to delight in the
law of the LORD and it ends with, “Let everything that has breath praise
the LORD” (Ps. 150:6, emphasis mine). So,
with every breath that is within me I
will Praise the Lord.
**For my mom, who has faced her pain for over thirty years with bravery and dignity and for a sweet friend who is
battling cancer; who in the midst of her own aches and pains wants to blog her
experience so that others might be encouraged.