There Will Come A Day 


I’ve always had a heart for those that are suffering, those that are willing to be vulnerable and share their pain. I’ve been with you on this path, sharing what I can. We cannot carry it ourselves, our shoulders are not strong enough. We need Jesus. We need fellowship with others that are carrying their own cross.

We are all on a journey with Him, bearing our wounds to the best of our ability without complaining too much. Forgiving those that persecute us, and carrying on like we aren’t broken. But it takes its toll. Even Jesus screamed out about being forsaken.

There will come a day when we are no longer in pain, and it will be a joyous day. Until then, I just want to get as close as possible to His robes and hold on tightly with all the faith and love in my heart, waiting for my healing to come.

“Just then a woman who had been subject to bleeding for twelve years came up behind him and touched the edge of his cloak. She said to herself, “If I only touch his cloak, I will be healed.” Jesus turned and saw her. “Take heart, daughter,” he said, “your faith has healed you.” And the woman was healed at that moment.” Matthew 9:20-22

I Never Could Have Known

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I came across one of your songs today, and a flood of emotions came to the surface. The love for a young girl that died way too young. I wanted to save you, I wanted to love you and give you a home but God had other plans.

I know the song* was how you got through your last days. And as it made its way to my playlist, I wrote this for you… I miss you sweet Faith.

 

I never could have known

What you went through,

The constant doubt, the many questions

Would now be filling my days.

I did the best I could,

Trying to be there for you

 

But I never could have known

Just what you really went through.

I feel like a failure

I get it now, I really do;

I was nowhere near

What you needed me to be;

 

You needed a miracle,

And I was never going to

Be able to give that to you

And now that I’m in the fire,

I feel the doubt, I have the questions

But you’re already gone.

 


*Fight Song by Rachel Platten

Feeling Tired and Worn

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I’m tired. Like really tired, and not just because I don’t sleep well.

I’m tired of being poked and prodded. I’m tired of seeing doctors that can’t help me. Doctors that tell me they don’t know what’s wrong with me, or that there is nothing wrong with me at all.

I’m tired of pills, medicine, and treatments. Nothing works. I’ve tried so many different things… even physical therapy but it hasn’t changed a thing.

I’m tired of not feeling well, with this symptom or that. Every day it’s something else. My head still hurts every day, and sometimes incredibly bad. I sat on my bedside a few days ago at 3 o’clock in the morning contemplating going to the emergency room; they weren’t much help the last time I was there so I suffered through it like I always do.

I’m tired of suffering. Not knowing when it’s going to end. Will I ever be okay again? Will there ever be another season in my life when I am not feeling pain compounded over pain, let alone just one single breath with no pain at all?

I’m tired of doctors that keep throwing around words like anxiety and depression. How would they feel if they woke up sick one day, believing it would pass, but it doesn’t. And every day they keep waiting and hoping that the next doctor will have the answer or a solution to help them feel even an ounce like their old self? Grieving is not the same as depression, and being anxious just seems to be part of this whole ordeal with chronic pain.

This is a side of me that few people get to see. I’m hurting just like everyone else in this world. I don’t know what my future looks like. I have all of these dreams, but I don’t know which ones are God’s will. And I don’t know if I will ever be well again. That’s the most daunting question of all, and all the faith in my heart doesn’t seem to be enough to keep that question far from my mind. It’s always there, like a child repeating themselves over and over again until they get what they want.

Still, I wait and trust, giving everything I have to God because I have nothing left. I find myself draped over His promises, spent from exhaustion. Only He has the strength. Only He can carry me through the most trying times of my life. There is no use trying to do this on my own, no use trying to carry my own battered body down unfamiliar streets to search for a cure on my own. Where has that gotten me? What have I gained from all of this? Nothing I tell you, nothing.

I don’t know where God will take me from here but I do know one thing. I will not be alone. Through all of the pain, uncertainty, and upset, He has been there with me. He has carried me at every moment I couldn’t do this anymore. He has lifted me at every moment my body and faith have given out on me, despite my best attempts to keep everything together. And He will continue to be with me, only this time I will let Him do most of the walking and let His strength carry me.

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” Matthew 11:28

It’s Not Just Pain


Lord, I need you every day as I fight each and every aspect that comes with being in pain all the time. I need you, and many more need you, many more that are enduring the same tortures that I am. Lord, be with us in the worst moments, and when we are in such pain that we cannot speak, please let our tears be our cry to you. In Jesus name I pray. Amen. 

Fighting to Breathe


While sitting here a few minutes ago reading Psalm 143, I endured the most excruciating pain in my side. It caused me to have trouble breathing, and I fought the devil literally to read aloud each word in that Psalm from start to finish until I found peace at the end. 

Some aspects of my pain comes and goes in waves, but while the tides I endure are sometimes scary and seemingly unrelenting, in my heart I know that Jesus is with me every step of the way. He will never fail me. And I will never give up on Him, never give up trusting up with the plan He has for my life. I pray that your faith is able to endure the hardships as well to the point of understanding how you are being used for His kingdom. 

Psalm 143:8 KJV

“Cause me to hear thy lovingkindness in the morning; for in thee do I trust: cause me to know the way wherein I should walk; for I lift up my soul unto thee.”

I Miss The Old Me


I’m laying down because I need rest

But the dogs are barking

The kids are screaming

My stomach is hurting

My body is jerking

My head is hurting

My conscience is guilty

And my heart is heavy. 

I miss the old me

That played with the dogs

That did things with the kids

That worked out my body

That always used my head

That had a clean conscience

And a heart full with joy.  

Lord, be with me. 

My Own Psalm

Overwhelmed

Nothing’s working

Wasting my time

Cause no one’s looking

They may care

They may not

But no matter what

Only You can decide

So I sit here and cry

Call out your name

Pull away from the stares

Try to look past the pain

Tired and worn

Why must I sit here

Be forced to question

The strength in Your name

I know You’re good

I know Your grace

But I’m falling down

Into an empty space

Spinning, stumbling,

How much longer

Do I have to wait

To escape the thunder?

I need You, Lord

I sit here and pray

Why can’t You just

Rescue me today?

What Have I Done To Deserve Praise?

What have I done to deserve praise? Nothing, absolutely nothing. I am no one special. I am no better than you or the next person. Alone, I have no talents. Alone, I have no gifts. Only with Jesus can I be somebody, but even that somebody would be a reflection of He who made me. I am nothing, completely nothing without Jesus. I have no talents, no gifts without Jesus. And so the praise that comes my way can really only be meant for Him.

Still Hear The Whisper

It’s 11:30 in the morning, and I’ve already had my share of crying today. I’ve calmed down but I still want to crawl in my bed and just sleep the day away. Oh wait, I have problems with my muscles tightening terribly anytime I try to relax… so sleeping is usually out of pure exhaustion. I wonder how much crying I have to do to get to the point of exhaustion.

Honestly, what I really want is to just stop hurting. And to be heard. To have a doctor genuinely care and want to help me. Not just any doctor. You know, the kind that is supposed to help you. I just had another bad experience from a doctor that really has no interest in helping me, and this is coming from a rheumatologist. If he can’t help me, who can?

Even when I’m at my worst, I can hear the whisper from God. It’s easy to rely on a doctor to help me but they have an inadvertent way of reminding me that only God can.