Yesterday was full of tears, tears because the day I had been trying to avoid snuck up behind me and wrestled me to the ground. My back and pain have been getting worse and worse and I’ve been trying to push forward day by day and not give up. Even though most around me haven’t been able to tell each step, each breath, each moment has been a struggle to keep on going, to not give in, but I knew it was coming. I knew the day was fast approaching that I would be confined mostly to bed and my chair and I didn’t want to admit it. I felt like I was running with one of those bands attached to my middle that like pro athletes use to train (at least I think they do right? I’m not really much of an athlete) and that it was getting tighter and tighter and was about to snap pulling me down with it.
I cried and cried because I’ve been working so hard on getting routines in my house (ala Flylady) and now they are out the window. I can’t tell you the number of things I cried about yesterday. Letting go when you are just starting to gain some ground is hard. And lest some of you think it’s big things like decluttering or making my house perfect we aren’t just talking about that. We’re talking about things like showering daily, being able to sit up long enough to do my Bible study, and loads of even simpler things. It’s hard to let go.
I have gained some perspective today. I think part of why it was so hard is because last time it got real bad I was stuck in bed for six months before I finally got surgery. This time I’m not completely bedridden yet and I have a doctor appointment on Tuesday so that’s all positives. Also I have someone here to help and I have those routines I can run right back to and get right back on track as soon as this is all behind me. God has me in His hands.
That being said, I don’t think it’s wrong to mourn. I think sometimes those of us with chronic health issues in the church sometimes feel like we can’t mourn openly and for a long while because then we must not be trusting God fully. But trust me, I trust God. I trust Him a lot. I have to! If I didn’t I’d be even more of a mess than I am now. I wouldn’t just be a bundle of tears in the laundry room, the bathroom, while starting at my sink full of dishes, but I’d be wanting to give up on life and most likely be on suicide watch if I’m being honest. I’m trusting God will all my being.
In Ecclesiastes 3 Solomon wrote that their is a time for everything. There is a time to mourn. It is allowed. God allows us to mourn, to cry out to Him. He holds us, comforts us. The times I’ve felt the closest to Him are the times when I’ve had these times of mourning and had to lean and trust Him for everything. Anyway, that’s where I am right now. Mourning with ugly, messy, tears, frequently in the laundry room bent over the washing machine because for some reason people rarely look for me in there, probably becasue they don’t want to get roped in to helping.