At 9:38 a.m., I check in for my appointment and then select a seat in the waiting room. A high-pitched sound coming from the elevator hums in the background. The elevator needs repairs, and this hum will continue until it is fixed. Scenic pictures of horses grazing in sleepy meadows and streams surrounded by lush forest hang on the wall behind my seat. Such peaceful landscapes seem incongruent with the ongoing, never-ending sound reverberating in the background. One can attempt to distract their attention by scrolling on their phone, but the humming is constant and persistent- much like a chronic illness.
Reflections
When I first received my diagnosis of “Reactivated Epstein Barr Virus,” I thought to myself, “Okay, I’ll change my diet and take some supplements, get lots of rest, and in a few months, I’ll be on the road to recovery.” The diet helped me lose weight and the supplements eased my discomfort, but the fatigue continued. Sometimes I see progress and have days or weeks of more energy, but then a tidal wave of fatigue, chest pains, stomach problems, and inflammation takes me out. After years of this roller coaster cycle, I return to my doctor and we discuss the possibility of a problem called chronic fatigue.
Ironically, I watched this illness destroy the health of a close friend of mine when I was single. Eventually, she was unable to continue her job and had to apply for disability benefits.
Does God heal chronic illness? Does chronic mean I will struggle with this problem for the rest of my life? What hope do I have when facing a chronic illness?
For now, I wait. I am learning to adjust my lifestyle to this new “normal” in my life. My family also gives me extra help. Joseph carries my laundry down to the basement. Amber cooks a meal for the family on Monday nights. Sean adjusts his plans to what my energy level is that day. Some days I have energy to make a meal for the family; sometimes not.
Prayer
Father God,
I have prayed for healing, but I am still ill.
I have made changes in my lifestyle, but I am still ill.
You have chosen to not heal me at this time. You have asked me to wait.
There are others reading this blog who are also waiting for your healing touch.
We look to you carry us through this barren wilderness. Fill us with hope that you have not forgotten us. You feel our pain and carry our sorrows.
Hold us tight till this storm passes over.
In Jesus’ name,
Amen
Scripture
I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us. (Romans 8:18 NIV)
Shout-out to my husband,Sean. Thanks, honey, for the cool picture of Memorial Lake. I remember the night we watched that sunset. What a great memory of us having fun together!
