Daily I live with a certain amount of lasting, chronic pain. My doctors have worked long and hard to try to manage it enough that I can function as much as possible. This week has brought difficult new challenges though. Regardless of what I do in a day, sometime around 4 or 5pm I’ve started having the most unbearable pain. My medications don’t touch it, neither do the handful of topical rubs I apply, or the essential oils I take by the capsule full. Obviously sleep evades me during this time, as I can do little to get comfortable with my muscles and bones screaming at me that something is very wrong.
There are a lot of effects of this disease that I can push through. I can go from puking to putting on a smile and showing up at church on a Sunday morning. I can be super short of breath and hook up to my vent and still make it to my babies’ concerts and ball games. I can go from fainting to re-orienting myself and carrying on with the responsibilities of my day. But this pain. Sometimes I don’t know how to push through.
After working in healthcare for so many years I’ve always tried to be really realistic when asked to rate my pain. I have the best chart ever, and often I refer to it to make sure the number I’m blurting out is on par with how I’m really feeling.
Most of time I’m sitting around a 6 or a 7. Nighttime lately is an 8-9. I find myself anxiety-ridden and begging for mercy. There are times I feel like I can push through anything but this pain, and I think to myself that if pain alone could kill, I would surely die.
I beg God that if He can take one thing away it would be my pain, because I feel like it’s the thing that makes my world stop turning. It’s the thing that prevents me from meeting my people.
Then I remember that pain is the thing that most brings me to my Father’s arms. It is what ushers me into the sacred places of other’s suffering, allowing me to be a channel of Christ’s compassion, comfort, and love. This season has been long and intense and piercing— but all of these tears and pain and desperate prayers have been not only for my own good, but for the good of other individuals entrenched in suffering. It is 2 Corinthians 1:3 in action:
“He comforts us in all our troubles so that we can comfort others. When they are troubled, we will be able to give them the same comfort God has given us.”
Even living in the cruel agony of a terminal illness God is continually showing me how He turns my pain into lasting and eternal gifts. And so I find a way to cling to the shreds of hope and the miracles He works on behalf of His suffering children, and I can trust that He will hold me together and work these wonders together for the good of my soul.
Choosing Hope 
Hannah,
I feel so completely unable to think of comforting words to say to you as you struggle through this unbearable trauma in your life . The one thing I know and it is clear that you do as well, is that God has you in his arms in the worst of times as well as the best. I often think of your precious family and how they are there for you . I so wish I lived closer and could come see you .
when you are feeling a bit better I remember your mom saying you would like to read something at Grammys funeral . Please reach out to one of your family members who will be there so that it can be shared . I have been told that it will be either live streamed or recorded.
You are such a gifted writer and able to share from the depths of your soul. Maybe you are already doing this but if not, please keep your notes and consider publishing them that they might bless others
I love you
Aunt Nancy
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Thank you Aunt Nancy. I will reach out about Grammy’s funeral.
I have a few writings in progress I would absolutely love to publish, it just takes more money than I have! Maybe someday! I love you!
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“Father if it be possible let this cup pass from me… Nevertheless, not my will but yours be done.”
Jesus, @ Gethsemane
I don’t even know how to begin to enter into his suffering, but I know you are… We don’t know why yet, but we see glimpses of Glory. Lean into the people who really truly love you… It blesses them as well as you. You don’t suffer all alone.. and yet in ways you do. Praying for you everyday..
“lo, I am coming soon and my reward is with me.”
Jesus
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“Father if it be possible let this cup pass from me… Nevertheless, not my will but yours be done.”
Jesus, @ Gethsemane
I don’t even know how to begin to enter into his suffering, but I know you are… We don’t know why yet, but we see glimpses of Glory. Lean into the people who really truly love you… It blesses them as well as you. You don’t suffer all alone.. and yet in ways you do. Praying for you everyday..
“lo, I am coming soon and my reward is with me.”
Jesus
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Thank you!
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May God bless you with peace of mind and heart.
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Thank you, Judy!
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You’re welcome, Hannah.
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You are in my prayers daily little sister
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Thank you big brother!
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Your inner beauty is just as beautiful as the outside.
What you are describing with your physical pain is just how I would describe the extreme anxiety and depression I battled over the last few years. It was so suffocating but I do understand your words about being so much nearer to Christ when we are weak.
May His strength carry you through the thick and thin and anywhere in between. Praying for you now.
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Thank you!
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I am baffled by the number of people in my life who live every day in pain & yet still put in a brave face and keep moving forward.
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Your strength is so commendable (I live with chronic migraines and the pain category 10 is all too familiar: although in reality, I tend to shift the numbers around in the chart; a number 2 is my baseline – there is no 0) – hoping that you find some moments of joy and peace on your journey through life. Linda xox
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Thank you Linda!
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🥰
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