Pain is a gateway to the best joy & peace. . .God Himself.
It is not that hard & painful things are swept under the rug and dealt with superficially as we tack on Christianese and suck it up. It is moreso that we have no rug or superficial joy or adequate reasoning to turn to. . .so we CLING to the only One who satisfies, who can make sense of senselessness.
We run, fall, cry, and wrestle safely in the Refuge of God. We are upheld, unashamed, and understood. We find our true joy in God because we are finally unable to hide from or ignore the only One who so perfectly comforts, helps, and transforms.
My life changed once I realized that everyone is dealing with chronic pain in some capacity. The chronic pain others face may not be physical, but it could be mental, emotional, spiritual, and so on. We are all chronically dealing with pain. What a strangely welcoming thought!
I soon realized I could transcribe my pain into all sorts of other pain. Yes, I couldn’t intimately understand what others were experiencing, but I could feel it on some level because of my own chronic difficulties.
Writing about chronic pain means the subject matter will be relate-able for anyone who’s lived any amount of life, because life is hard. Oh, but it is not hopeless. I believe the personal stories, experiences, and pieces of advice I blog will be ones you can transcribe into your own life.
Today, we start with laying a good foundation in order to uproot any of the lies we are currently believing about pain. Believing lies will always destroy more life than pain ever will. I’ve lived this reality, and I don’t want that for you.
I’m at the end of myself screamed the woman who desired a husband. I’m at the end of myself screamed the wife struggling deep within her heart. I’m at the end of myself screamed the mom exhausted in ways she could hardly explain. I’m at the end of myself screamed each one with burdens big and painful.And all the women screaming were shaking strong, tired fists and learning what sacrifice really meant. While differing heartache brought them here, they each sat in the wilderness just the same. When every women lost her voice there was nothing left to do, but seek Rest and pray for all this heaviness to depart. Continue reading “I'm at the End of Myself”→
I have made a graveyard of her expectations. It will be the perfect place for flowers. I have made her laughter homeless, so you can make it richer. I am going down every heart-road, so she stops getting lost. I am stealing all the noise of life so she doesn’t get distracted. I am piercing her heart, and though the pain is deep and canyon wide, she is safe. Because I am a road that leads to healing.
I am the wilderness, so you can come through to fill it. I am the arsonist, so you can grow hope from the ashes. I destroy, but do not leave destruction. I am the bathroom tile, so you can be the working knees that stand up tall and fight forward once again.
I am the hollow feeling, so she knows how overflowing feels. I am the earthquake that cracks the complacent house wide open. I am the framework for the home of gratitude. But framework has holes and air between and it’s painful and ugly with splinters.
I am the tidal wave that breaks rhythm with the seashore. And then beautiful things come to the surface. I am the rebel that rejects the Dayspring words, so she’ll find comfort Somewhere else. And she’ll begin to remember you soon enough. I am the cracks in the sidewalk, so you can be the green impossibly shooting through.
I am the chaos, so she learns how good it is to cry aloud. I am the tangled thoughts, so she opens up to the Psalms. I am the worker with a thankless job, so she learns what it means to give thanks.
And I am here before you, because I am only the beginning. I cannot wait to see what you’ll do with all that’s left behind. I can just imagine the wildflowers springing up…some even touching the big blue sky.