I was reading a few posts back (and yes, I know some of you don't get my Crispin Glover video clip. If it isn't funny to you, well humor is one of those odd things that in the explaning, the intent--humor and laughter--is ruined.) Anyway, a few posts back I was struggling with the test results and believing that this pain syndrome is permanent. As I thought back, I realized that even though I have had this pain syndrome for 17+ years, the level of pain has not been consistent throughout the time. In fact, there have been periods of time that were relatively mild and which allowed me to work with fairly low pain levels and fairly high energy levels. The fish incident brought on a major flair-up, as FM people don't recover from pain and injury the same as other people.
I have, at various times, even been able to hold two jobs, or to work full-time and go to school. So, I am thinking that my current level of pain and the high levels of the virus are my bodies response to the high stress of my last job, particularly my struggles with a very difficult situation within that job and then trying to maintain the office by myself for a couple of months. I certainly began to feel the exhaustion returning during that time period.
So, dear friends, even though it is likely that I will never be pain-free in this world, I am heartened to consider that I am just currently on the pain side of the cycle and that I am likely to come back down to a manageable level in the foreseeable future.
While this gives me hope, I am glad that I cannot truly see beyond today, for my heart would fail me. Had I known what future pains I would face, I would not have had the courage to go on. We are not meant to know more than today.
I have a friend who spends most of her time lying in a bed in a nursing home. She doesn't have the strength to speak loudly enough for most people to hear her, and most people say her speech is slurred. I understand her well enough, most of the time, but I have to lean in close. I know her mind is sharp and that it is frustrating that her body won't cooperate. Her right side is useless, following a stroke, and her left eye apparently does not work any more. She faces all of this with great dignity and grace. She has taught me that God's strength is sufficient for today. I don't need to have the strength for tomorrow today. I only need the strength for today.
However...should I somehow see tomorrow, I need only know that the same God who sustains me and gives me strength and courage for today will be with me tomorrow. My Jesus, who bought me with a great price has sent me a Comforter. There is a great prayer meeting in heaven over me and over you. The Spirit interprets our prayers, even our groanings that have no words, Jesus, our Savior interceeds on our behalf with the Father, who sees only the righteousness of his Son, and even when we were unrighteous and in our wretched state, loved us enough to have sent his son. Do I understand it? Can I begin to comprehend his love? Can I comprehend the mystery of a God who calls himself one and plural at the same time? Jehovah Elohim? Adonai? That we have one God I believe. That he is three persons, Father, Jesus Christ his son, and the Spirit, I also believe. It is a mystery that I cannot understand. Praise him for his excellent greatness!
His strength is sufficient for me.
Saturday, March 14, 2009
Prayer for R, C, & S
Do you ever have those times when all your words fade? There is no eloquence or long-winded speeches, no twist of phrase that can adequately pray? Today is it.
Lord, have mercy.
Have mercy, Oh Lord.
Mercy.
The state of Kim
My church, Community Church of the Rockies, is in the midst of a campaign for spiritual renewal, growth and devotion, leading up to a financial campaign. This, combined with my present circumstances are all being used by God to reveal where my faith is weak, where my sin issues are, the places where I am unfaithful, and to increase or light a fire in me with a longing for more of Him. Having no job and no job prospects makes me understand to an even greater degree that I am totally dependent on God for my provision. The health difficulties point out the ways I was trusting in my own physical strength to accomplish things and to minister to others. Being asked to commit to a more intense walk (the fasting/study/prayer time) has revealed where my walk and my discipline is weak. It has revealed areas of sin in my life that require repentance.
Truly I have nothing in myself. My righteousness is like filthy rags and cannot stand before a Holy God. I am more grateful than I have ever been that Jesus took my place and clothed me in his righteousness and because of that I can go boldly into the very throne room of God. What a wonder that his forgiveness is so thorough.
I come to him bemoaning my weakness and he laughs, saying, "I know, my child. Let me give you MY strength."
I say to him, "Forgive me of my sin." He says, "What sin? It was all washed away. I see you clothed in the righteousness of Jesus."
I say, "I am faithless." He says, "but I remain faithful. I cannot change my nature."
I come to him saying, "I'm afraid for my financial situation." He says, "Why? Don't you know that I own everything? I will not withhold any good thing from you. I will give you what you need. Don't you trust me?" And I confess that I am weak in my faith where I thought I was strong.
I go to him about my physical frailties and he says, "Those are to try you and test you, to humble you and to teach you to depend on me, that in the end it may go well with you."
I think we as a people, even as Christians, have depended on our country for our provision and our way of life. We (and by we I mean me) have held onto our wealth and largely ignored the suffering world around us, clinging to our comforts and our wants, while people are dying. Is our heart toward the poor? Toward the suffering church around the world? Is our heart even turned toward our neighbors? I begin to wonder if this time may bring us as a people and as the church in America to realize that our plans have been silly and selfish, and for the most part we have been ungrateful for what God has provided for us.
Lord, guide my days. Where my plans are out of sync with yours, make me aware, that I may go with your perfect plan. Where I have depended on anything other than you, show me, that I may repent. You are my sustainer, my hope, my provider. Your grace is sufficient for me. Show me your glory Lord, in spite of me.
Truly I have nothing in myself. My righteousness is like filthy rags and cannot stand before a Holy God. I am more grateful than I have ever been that Jesus took my place and clothed me in his righteousness and because of that I can go boldly into the very throne room of God. What a wonder that his forgiveness is so thorough.
I come to him bemoaning my weakness and he laughs, saying, "I know, my child. Let me give you MY strength."
I say to him, "Forgive me of my sin." He says, "What sin? It was all washed away. I see you clothed in the righteousness of Jesus."
I say, "I am faithless." He says, "but I remain faithful. I cannot change my nature."
I come to him saying, "I'm afraid for my financial situation." He says, "Why? Don't you know that I own everything? I will not withhold any good thing from you. I will give you what you need. Don't you trust me?" And I confess that I am weak in my faith where I thought I was strong.
I go to him about my physical frailties and he says, "Those are to try you and test you, to humble you and to teach you to depend on me, that in the end it may go well with you."
I think we as a people, even as Christians, have depended on our country for our provision and our way of life. We (and by we I mean me) have held onto our wealth and largely ignored the suffering world around us, clinging to our comforts and our wants, while people are dying. Is our heart toward the poor? Toward the suffering church around the world? Is our heart even turned toward our neighbors? I begin to wonder if this time may bring us as a people and as the church in America to realize that our plans have been silly and selfish, and for the most part we have been ungrateful for what God has provided for us.
Lord, guide my days. Where my plans are out of sync with yours, make me aware, that I may go with your perfect plan. Where I have depended on anything other than you, show me, that I may repent. You are my sustainer, my hope, my provider. Your grace is sufficient for me. Show me your glory Lord, in spite of me.
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Chronic Pain
I have occasion to think about what it means to live with pain. I really think that if someone told me that I was going to die soon that I would be okay with that. I don't want to die, but I would be okay with it. I'm not afraid. I would regret things I haven't done or completed, but I'm okay with it. Some who have had that cancer diagnosis say you do not know until you hear those words, but I truly believe that for me, knowing that my family was hurting would be the worst, followed by any treatment. A death sentence is not my big fear.
My big fear is when they say, "hey, there is no cure. Sorry you hurt. Get used to it." And this is what has happened. I have always expected a cure. I didn't really admit it to myself and certainly never to others, but I expected it. I never even knew how much I expected it until I said to the doctor, "you mean I'm screwed" and he just looked at me. No laugh, no disagreement, merely silence.
I am staring at the lab reports trying to understand them. I don't understand them. The lab report says that any reading over 120 for the EBV Ab VCA, IgG is positive. Mine is 2389. Somewhat higher. If I understood the doctor correctly this means that I have chronic Epstein Barr. Epstein Barr does not go away, though it can go up and down. This cannot be eliminated from your system. This has been linked with the chronic pain and fatigue that I have been dealing with for 17 years. Also I am rating positive for a chronic Chlamydia pneumoniae (this is not the STD, but a very tricky bacteria). This apparently changes form and hides within the body, attacking nerves, and is linked to....chronic pain and fatigue syndromes, asthma and arthritis, among other things.
As I struggle to discern truth from fiction (the web is a tricky place filled with lies and falsehood along with great information)I am struggling to regain my fighting spirit. I have fought for years against disability, against depression, against giving in to this! With his words, my fight went on vacation and didn't take me along.
I don't know what other people's greatest fears are, but I have learned one of my own. To know that the future stretches out ahead of me and that years of pain and fatigue await me requires courage that I do not have in me. I am afraid. But as George R. R. Martin says in "A Game of Thrones":
I may not have enough courage to face this on my own, but what I do have is the surety that I don't have to. At this moment I cast this on my Savior, for he cares for me. He cares for me and that is beyond expression. That gives me courage.
My big fear is when they say, "hey, there is no cure. Sorry you hurt. Get used to it." And this is what has happened. I have always expected a cure. I didn't really admit it to myself and certainly never to others, but I expected it. I never even knew how much I expected it until I said to the doctor, "you mean I'm screwed" and he just looked at me. No laugh, no disagreement, merely silence.
I am staring at the lab reports trying to understand them. I don't understand them. The lab report says that any reading over 120 for the EBV Ab VCA, IgG is positive. Mine is 2389. Somewhat higher. If I understood the doctor correctly this means that I have chronic Epstein Barr. Epstein Barr does not go away, though it can go up and down. This cannot be eliminated from your system. This has been linked with the chronic pain and fatigue that I have been dealing with for 17 years. Also I am rating positive for a chronic Chlamydia pneumoniae (this is not the STD, but a very tricky bacteria). This apparently changes form and hides within the body, attacking nerves, and is linked to....chronic pain and fatigue syndromes, asthma and arthritis, among other things.
As I struggle to discern truth from fiction (the web is a tricky place filled with lies and falsehood along with great information)I am struggling to regain my fighting spirit. I have fought for years against disability, against depression, against giving in to this! With his words, my fight went on vacation and didn't take me along.
I don't know what other people's greatest fears are, but I have learned one of my own. To know that the future stretches out ahead of me and that years of pain and fatigue await me requires courage that I do not have in me. I am afraid. But as George R. R. Martin says in "A Game of Thrones":
"Can a man still be brave if he's afraid?"
"That is the only time a man can be brave"
I may not have enough courage to face this on my own, but what I do have is the surety that I don't have to. At this moment I cast this on my Savior, for he cares for me. He cares for me and that is beyond expression. That gives me courage.
Thursday, January 29, 2009
A person without a country...
Okay, that's an exaggeration, but I am feeling bereft today. I went to Robb's to pick up some things he said he wanted me to have. I knew it would be hard for me to be at his house without him there, but the minute I got into the car to go there I started crying. I steeled myself to go, kicking myself for being a coward and not going while he was still living.
I know we all process our grief in different ways, but I am baffled and angry that no one seems to be taking his death as hard as I am. Everyone is disgustingly cheerful. Oh, I have moments where I allow myself the respite of forgetting, and in those times I am able to act normal, but is there no grief in some of these people? Or is it that many of his friends are older and their experiences with death has numbed or calloused them? I don't know, but I am raw with grief. I wanted to call and ask Robb a question this morning, but there is no one on the other end of the phone.
I sat at his table which had pictures from nearly 30 years ago, with Rob sporting dark hair and beard, and those 70's style glasses that were dark tinted, graduating to clear on the bottom. It brought back memories, hints of fleeting thoughts of times and years gone by. He will never maneuver through the piles of stuff in that house again. At some time I will drive by that house and there will be another family living there. They won't have the piles, they won't have the crowded surfaces, they won't have a full garage, crowded sheds, etc. The lilac will bloom for someone else. It will be a stranger's home, and bit by bit I will have to come to terms with the fact that he is gone.
But for now, I can't get in the car without breaking down crying. There is nowhere that my grief feels understood. Even at Rob's the executor who was a friend for 20 years, shows no signs of grief. The relentless cheer is hard for me to take.
I thought that if there were one place where my grief would be understood, it would be there. Where is the land where this grief is understood and shared?
I know we all process our grief in different ways, but I am baffled and angry that no one seems to be taking his death as hard as I am. Everyone is disgustingly cheerful. Oh, I have moments where I allow myself the respite of forgetting, and in those times I am able to act normal, but is there no grief in some of these people? Or is it that many of his friends are older and their experiences with death has numbed or calloused them? I don't know, but I am raw with grief. I wanted to call and ask Robb a question this morning, but there is no one on the other end of the phone.
I sat at his table which had pictures from nearly 30 years ago, with Rob sporting dark hair and beard, and those 70's style glasses that were dark tinted, graduating to clear on the bottom. It brought back memories, hints of fleeting thoughts of times and years gone by. He will never maneuver through the piles of stuff in that house again. At some time I will drive by that house and there will be another family living there. They won't have the piles, they won't have the crowded surfaces, they won't have a full garage, crowded sheds, etc. The lilac will bloom for someone else. It will be a stranger's home, and bit by bit I will have to come to terms with the fact that he is gone.
But for now, I can't get in the car without breaking down crying. There is nowhere that my grief feels understood. Even at Rob's the executor who was a friend for 20 years, shows no signs of grief. The relentless cheer is hard for me to take.
I thought that if there were one place where my grief would be understood, it would be there. Where is the land where this grief is understood and shared?
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