Wounded

I am an aerobic sleeper.

Yes, even though I tend to hate all things "aerobic", it seems that in my sleep my body rebels against me and chooses to operate in the ways of the ninja. I kick sometimes, I steal covers often, and every now and then I find myself with a Wound Of Unknown Origin. Has this ever happened to you?

Usually I won't discover said wound until I am engaged in activity that causes me to use the part of me that has been affected. I'll be washing dishes (in the kitchen where I belong, of course) or doing laundry (but only until I return to the kitchen) and suddenly...OUCH! "What IS this devil of a pain in my elbow?" I exclaim, as my hand raises to cover it.

I quickly move to the restroom, where I can examine this most awkward piece of my anatomy more thoroughly. "Well, what do you know?" I say to myself. "I must have done that while I was sleeping."

Unfortunately, too often this is how I discover my emotional wounds as well.

I'll be going along, in my day to day life, just doing my thing and then OUCH! What the heck was that all about? Something has probed a wound. Immediately, a hand goes up to cover it and keep THAT from happening again. Occasionally, I'll pause to examine it, but most of the time I will just limp along...making sure that this particular pain is avoided at all cost.

Self protection. Defense mechanisms. We have each dealt with at least one, some cases much milder than others, of course. Some of us are so skilled in the act of covering wounds that we have forgotten they were even there to begin with.

Recently, the Lord revealed a wound to me in this manner. I wish I could say that I responded with grace and humility, curiously allowing the wound to be examined as God sought to deal with it.

I did not.

I lashed out at the Instrument that touched my pain and then quickly sought to cover my mangled mess.

Do you have children? They are the most fearless things, aren't they? Climbing to tops of the highest pieces of furniture or playground equipment and then promptly plunging to ground. However, get them into a chair with the threat of cleansing a wound and they then turn into screaming and terrified little animals. I wonder what they're thinking, sometimes:

"What is this hydrogen peroxide you speak of? That sounds suspicious. No way is that pain doing me any good. OUCH!!!!!! You crazy, sadistic, horrible woman! I can't believe you're doing this to me! Whyyyyyy?!?!?! ...Oo! A bandaid. That's better!" (If you read that in Stewie's voice, you're still with me.)

So, this is pretty much what I've been experiencing. Except the cleansing part isn't over, yet.

Once the wound was discovered, I limped home and quickly moved through several steps of grief:

Denial. What wound? I don't see a wound. Oh, you mean that gaping hole in my leg? It's just a flesh wound!
Blame. Probably the Instrument that touched it did it. Yeah, I mean...who says it was even there before that?
Anger. I can't believe I have to even deal with this right now, God! What the heck. I have a race to run!
Depression. Why are You even letting this happen, God? Just take me now and end this horrible pain!

Yesterday, as I moved through these feelings, I begged God for a bandage.

But my Father is much too loving and merciful to do that. This morning He reminded me that a wound must be completely purified before it will begin to heal. Do I want it to fester and become infected? No, of course not. Do I want to get my hands in His way and risk the chance of an ugly scar? No, of course not. Does it feel good in the meantime? No, of course not.

Instead of screaming and crying and throwing a fit about it, though, I imagine this will go a lot more smoothly if I humbly submit to this time of cleansing. Today, I am walking in acceptance that in order for God to be able to bind up my wounds, some purification has to happen first. But thankfully, as I look up into His eyes, they are full of love--His hands are gentle in healing. His words, comforting.

So, thank You, Father. Thank You for being a parent whose infinite wisdom sees beyond my present pain to my complete healing in this area. Thank You for the comfort of Your Word as I endure, and Thank You for the Instruments that You use to examine and reveal areas where I need Your healing hand. In the powerful, precious name of Jesus, I pray. Amen.

Gratitude

It's a new year!!! Ok, ok...I know it has been for a couple of days now. You'll forgive me for that, though, since I'm sick, right? :)

Oh, yes. I have a cold. Not a big deal for most folks, but when you have been bordering on the edge of auto-immune disease for a few years, it is definitely a little bit bigger of a deal. Last time I had a cold, it quickly turned into a monstrous ordeal and by the end of it I was fighting not one, but two acute infections. One chance to beat it with antibiotics (which I HATE, but I had no choice) or they were threatening me with hospital time. Luckily, it worked and I kicked that cold. After 6 weeks...

Actually, luck had nothing to do with it. And that's kind of why I am sitting here babbling on and on.

And on.

So, this time that I have been under the weather, I cannot seem to shake the gratitude. That sounds funny, but here's a glimpse inside my brain the last day or so: (scared?)

Me: Ugh. I feel like mangled poo that's been refried in brussel sprout juice.
God: ...
Me: Sorry, God, that was a bit much, huh? I just wish I could feel better. I have things to do! Isn't that just such a glorious thing, God? I have things to do. I can do things. Like, the other day...I was sitting with Aidan and we were talking about his piano playing and he asked me to teach him more songs! I love that he wants me to help and that I can help. Thank you for blessing me with the ability to be here and do things and love people!
God: Calm down, your body needs the energy for healing. And you're welcome. :)
Me: ...

Ok, that was silly. But don't worry...God is used to me by now. Or so I tell myself, anyway.

Seriously, though. It seems like every time that I have tried to whine or complain about being sick, the Holy Spirit has brought me around to seeing something to be thankful for in the middle of it. Do you know what I'm thankful for most of all?

That my hope is in the Lord.

As I was eating my special gluten free, sugar free, dairy free dinner tonight, I thought about everything I have learned in the last three years regarding nutrition. If you've been around me for four seconds during a meal, there's a good chance that you know a morsel of this information.

Tonight, though, as I thought about everything...I laughed. Out loud! Because so much of what I know contradicts itself at some point. I've even asked doctors, "But what if..." and gotten the "Well..." answers. The truth that I came to rest in tonight is that no matter What I Do...God is my healer. He just is. And He will. Heal me, that is.

I'll still do my best to take care of this temple, of course. But only because I have faith that God is working it all together for my good. Standing in my kitchen tonight, I had an amazing peace come over me. And I took another bite of my gluten free, sugar free, dairy free dinner.

Once again, I am so thankful that all my delight is in Him...all of my hope...all of my strength. God gave me that word for this new year. No matter what things await me this year, my hope is in Him. And I feel like having this cold allowed me to know and receive this truth in a much deeper way.

Oh, and...

Happy New Year! :)