Wednesday, August 27, 2008

What a wild and crazy summer it's been...

How do people who work demanding jobs keep up with their blogs? I must admit to being too exhausted to even turn on the computer much of the time. Between the job, the house being under re-construction, covering for a co-worker on extended leave, yard work, church work, the dogs, the yard....oh my.

Trying to get the house ready for my parents to move in didn't exactly work out the way I had planned. We had a month less time than I realized, so they were moving in and the rooms weren't even empty of our stuff. I have furniture in the family room that needs to get moved out and put into storage in the garage or elsewhere, but there is little room to maneuver it around.

One of the most difficult things about this summer has been that I have felt disabled. I have never really accepted any disability. I want to curse and stomp my feet and argue with God. I am really hurting and have so little stamina. It's so frustrating. And yet...God has allowed this for reasons of his own. I cannot know or understand why. What does this do? Why provide a job that I must do, that is clear. The job is a total answer to prayer and a clear mission from above, yet it takes almost all my strength, and sometimes there simply isn't enough strength for the job. I take the Lyrica but I don't see any improvement. I have cut back my activity, but don't see any improvement in strength.

We rely so heavily on our ability to pick up after ourselves, to keep our little universe clean, to clean out the truck, to do our own laundry, to carry clothes upstairs, to hang up the towels--to complete tasks we start. As it is, my deck is a mess, but every time I clean it up, someone comes along and does some work and leaves their mess. By the time I summon the energy to clean up an area, someone comes behind me and messes it up.

Get the dining room cleaned out and all the boxed up kitchen stuff neatly stored in the guest room? Then the construction material and tools for the kitchen show up there, or someone comes for a visit and leaves stuff on the dining room table. The molding is removed from the dining room and placed in the only orderly room in the house--the living room, making that room unusable.

I don't have the strength to keep up with it all and it truly just makes me want to cry.

I don't mean this to be complaining, just explaining what has been going on.

There are difficulties on the job that I can't even explain here, and I have some kind of stomach virus that the doctor says isn't leaving because of the stress. I am worn out, used up, over-stretched, overcome, and that seems to be right where God wants me.

I was told by another Christian in my work world who has been watching my situation that she could clearly see that I was under attack. "You did know that..." she stated in a way that made it sound more like a question. Although I instantly knew it was true, I hadn't recognized the attack as a spiritual one, as something coming straight from the Evil One. She said she had seen it and had been praying. She said I needed to gather my intercessors.

I have been wondering what she meant by "my intercessors". Are we talking a group or groups of people who gather to pray for me? Who would that be? I have some friends who pray as they remember, but this sounded like a more organized gathering.

I was puzzling over this, and feeling a bit discouraged as I tried to think who would be willing to do this when another friend of mine told me the story of a day when she was just overwhelmed by the thought that Jesus was interceeding on her behalf and was praying for her. Romans 8:34
says it is Christ who interceeds for us.

Can you imagine? If there is a prayer group getting together on my behalf, it is led by Christ himself! It brings tears to my eyes every time I think about it. I am choked up at the thought that Christ prays for me. The Spirit speaks to the Father on my behalf when I cannot utter a thing. How about that?

I am overwhelmed, feeling as if God has either abandoned or forgotten me, and instead the triune God has their head(s) together conversing about me and my situation. If that won't humble you and bring you to your knees, I can't imagine what it would take.

I sometimes feel as if God's love is a distant thing. As if God has difficulty bonding with his children, or has some kind of attachment disorder. Instead of that, He never forgets me, He never stops loving me, His affection and delight in me knows no bounds. How is that even possible? Even I know what a mess I am, how incredibly undeserving I am, how can He not know that? How can he love me anyway?

The weird thinking goes like this: I don't deserve His love, but I deserve better than this. Sounds like double-minded thinking to me.

Or maybe I know I don't really deserve to live pain-free, but I long for it anyway. I long to be energetic and healthy. I long to be able to clean up without being so tired I simply want to weep. I long to be able to travel without the fear of having to use a wheelchair in the airport. It makes me feel so vulnerable and weak that a broken wheel on my suitcase can destroy a trip. I feel very vulnerable that I cannot keep my own yard clean, weeded, mown, trimmed, and sometimes I can't even haul the trash to the curb on Friday--and the container is on wheels!

Oh FM, how I hate you. And Arthur Itis is no friend of mine. Sciatica is my enemy.

Ah well, with enemies like that, it's a good thing that my heavenly trio is having a prayer meeting for me. If God is for me, who can stand against me?

No comments: