An Outside Perspective Pt. 3: Faith in the Midst of Chronic Illness

"In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world." ~ Jesus (John 16:33b)

     I'm blessed to live in a community in which people pray for each other. "I'm praying for you" is often heard, and, I trust, meant. "How are your mom and brother? Please tell them I'm praying for them." I pray too. But what happens when answers tarry, or maybe never come the way we hoped they would? What happens when, after years, things just get worse instead of better? Living with chronic illness is a wearying road (and it's not a sin to be weary!!)

     It is hard to persevere in praying with faith knowing that God can heal, yet still finding peace in His sovereign goodness, saying "Thy will be done." It's easy to lean toward one extreme or the other, either "claiming healing in Jesus' Name" and then being hurt and disillusioned when healing doesn't come, or just giving up on praying about it at all, giving in to despair. But the reality is, we are never promised healing. On the contrary, in Scripture we are promised repeatedly that life will, in some way, shape, or form, be hard. What we are promised is that we can have hope, peace, and joy even in the midst of suffering. In Christ, we are more than conquerors no matter what suffering we may be facing, and we know that nothing can separate us from His love. (I'm resisting the urge to quote all of Romans 8:16-39 here, but please, pause and read it. It's so good).

     As Christians, our hope is not ultimately in this life. Even one freed from the bondage of chronic illness still dwells in a mortal body which will eventually wear out and meet death. Praise God, because of Jesus and His atoning sacrifice, we have a "living hope" (1 Peter 1:3), a certain hope of eternity with God where we will never again know sadness, pain, or suffering. Whatever this life may hold until then, we can have hope for that reason. That is why we can rejoice.

     So in praying for a friend with chronic illness, yes, by all means pray that God will heal them! We serve a mighty God for whom nothing is impossible, who loves and cares for His children, and we hope that someday He may choose to heal. But pray especially that God will uphold them in the midst of trial. Pray that He will sustain their faith, give them hope, joy, and strength to meet each day. Pray that He will comfort and encourage them with His promises. And don't ever stop praying.

     I tried to capture all this in a poem I wrote for my Mom some time ago, inspired by Romans 8, and I will use it as a conclusion to this series of posts. Whether you are facing chronic illness or trial of any kind, I pray it is a blessing to you.

"Healing"

Few can see, and fewer grasp
The nature of this road,
A way of hidden suff'ring
On which many tears are sown.

Healing an elusive dream
And pain a steady friend
Imparting weariness to days
Which drag on without end.

This isolating illness
With no promise of a cure
Casts shadows of discouragement
Oppressive to endure.

A God of love, unbroken pain,
How are these reconciled?
How can a Father give with love
This thorn to His own child?

These concepts do not contradict
Though I afflicted be,
For I'm co-heir with Jesus,
And He suffered for me.

Oh, pity me, all who look on,
If all that I possess
Is uncertain chance of healing
And hope of earthly rest.

Yet, God be praised! That is not so.
One day this ache will lift.
A hope unseen, but certain hope
Is mine because He lives.

An eternal weight of glory waits-
The glory of His reign.
Not even worth comparing
With this passing, transient pain.

This troubled path is leading home.
One day I'll reach that place,
And there be healed forever
When at last I see His face. 

An Outside Perspective Pt 1: Understanding Chronic Illness

chron·ic

/kränik/

adjective

(of an illness) persisting for a long time or constantly recurring.

     When was the last time you were sick? (Last Friday in my case). No fun, huh? Did you curl up in bed and watch movies, waiting for your aches and pain to pass? Did you power through cold symptoms at work or school while your nose dripped, your throat burned, and your head was in a fog? Being sick is miserable. It stinks. When we get sick we put life on pause if we can, and if we can't, we may feel a bit sorry for ourselves. We try to get rest, move a little slower, and trust people will have grace for us if we're not in a particularly cheery mood. Then we get better, and life goes on.

     But imagine, if you will, that miserable feeling being a constant. Rather than hitting hard and moving on with a possible week or so of recovery afterward, imagine it stretching on for days... weeks... months... years. The specific symptoms may be different (and often worse) but if you have been imagining along with me, you have gotten a taste of what it's like to be chronically ill.

     I am not chronically ill, but my mom and brother have a chronic illness (as do 2 of my closest friends) so I have, in a sense, lived with it and seen its merciless effects first hand. It is isolating. It is discouraging. It is wearying. It is misunderstood. It is frightening. In writing this post, I'll try to do in text what I often have in conversation- explain at least a little of what makes chronic illness so hard.

      First, chronic illness is hidden. Most of those who suffer with it don't look sick, and consequently, they are often misunderstood. They have to function as best as they can with pain as a constant companion, because that's just how life is. So when you see them a smiling and laughing that doesn't mean everything is fine. They may be an expert at hiding just how bad they're feeling, and what you also don't see is that the price of today's social event may be a crash tomorrow, as they expended far more energy than they really had. For them, doing things we take for granted comes at a high price. As energy is limited, activities must become limited. As they are forced to step back from things they enjoyed before, as they have to keep saying "no," life keeps going on, and they may increasingly feel forgotten or left behind. Chronic illness is by its nature isolating and lonely.
     
     Second, chronic illness is... well... chronic. It just keeps going, long past the point one would feel they could endure it. People ask, "how are you feeling?" and the choices are either to hide the truth with a simple "fine" or to be honest and say "pretty terrible" over and over and over and over. There are ups and downs, but when the truth is usually discouraging, sometimes people get tired of asking. There's often no end in sight, and even when one's faith is strong, enduring pain day after day after day is wearying. Also, many chronic illnesses are hard to diagnose, and often it can mean years of doctors and tests with no answers... and then when answers do come the implications may be bleak. They need prayer for endurance.

     I feel safe in saying that possibly the most hurtful thing for someone who is chronically ill is for someone (especially someone close to them) to doubt that they are really sick. When someone is fighting pain and exhaustion day after day, the implication (however well it is meant) that it's all in their head is like a dagger. I have seen this happen more than once, and I can't begin to describe the pain it causes. Remember, chronic illness is hidden. Just because you can't see it, don't understand it, and may not have a label to attach to it doesn't mean it isn't there. If someone you love is chronically ill, and you are struggling with skepticism, please, please do not express it, and do not judge them. Try instead to be there for them. Try to be humble and teachable, ready to believe them, And if you are truly struggling with reservations about it, I do understand, it's hard to understand its effects when you haven't witnessed them first hand. Let me encourage you to bring that before God, and ask Him to help you see the situation as He sees it.

     Even having witnessed the effects of chronic illness on a day to day basis, it's still easy for me to forget or minimize just how bad those I love are feeling. That's why I'm sharing all this- in the hope that we might, as brothers and sisters in Christ, be able to have a better understanding of something that is often hard to grasp. In the next post I'll share some thoughts about practical ways to love those who are chronically ill, but in the meantime, just trying to understand (and praying!!) is a good place to start.

***Chronic illness is a broad term, and as with anything else, there is no universal stereotype for those who are chronically ill. What is felt by and/or helpful to one person might not be the same as someone else. I don't pretend to speak for all those who suffer with chronic illness, only to offer what I have observed in the hope that it may be helpful. 

Counting the Cost

I journal. I have kept a journal more or less faithfully since I was 11. My early entries often make me laugh or groan at my adolescent foolishness, and leave me thanking God that He loves me too much to leave me the way I am! But honestly, my journals are a magnificent blessing in my life, as I look back and see God's amazing faithfulness through many mountains and valleys, and I'm reminded of so many lessons He's taught me. I was reading through some journal entries from just over a year ago, and this one in particular stood out. It's something I wrote towards the end of my visit with Vicky in the Philippines, and because it fit with some other things I've been praying about today, I thought I'd share it here....

"Vicky and I were talking about suffering over breakfast. On multiple occasions Jesus spoke openly about His upcoming death to His disciples, but they didn't get it, and when it happened, they totally fell apart. Jesus has spoken equally clearly to us, and told us over and over that we will meet hardship and trials. We know it in our heads, but in spite of that, we are so often caught off guard when suffering actually comes. Vicky said that when she and [her husband] came to the field they came expecting to suffer. It made me think of 1 Peter 4:1a: 'Since therefore Christ suffered in the flesh, arm yourselves with the same way of thinking...' 

"Arming yourself is something you do in preparation for battle. We have been called to battle, and we can prepare for it by expecting to meet hardship, because the One we follow endured it before us. That's not to say we should worry about it or anxiously wonder about what might happen, only that we should realize that it's coming so that we won't be taken by surprise when it does."

This expectation is something so lacking in American Christianity... and I know it is far too often lacking in my own heart. I don't know where following Christ may take me, but I pray that He gives me steadfastness, faith and courage to meet whatever does come. He gave everything for me.... 

Poem- "You Know"

God gave me this poem a few months ago when I was going through something very painful. I didn't share it then because it was too fresh, but I share it now with the prayer that God might use it to minister to someone else as it ministered to me. 

"You Know"

No matter what heartache comes into my life,
No matter what sorrow I bear,
I'll not be shaken, though tears wet my eyes,
My Jesus, my Savior is there.

No matter what darkness hangs over my life,
No matter what suff'ring I face,
I'll rest in Your shelter, held close to Your heart,
And walk in the light of Your grace.

Your love is so great, Your compassion so tender,
Not only because I am Thine,
But because You, my King, were acquainted with grief,
And knew much darker darkness than mine.

You knew what it meant to know sorrow and heartache
While you dwelt here on this earth,
Hated by those whom You came to deliever,
Despised and rejected from birth.

You knew what it meant to lay down something precious;
You followed despite heavy cost.
You gave up Your throne, and the smile of Your Father
In exchange for the shame of the cross.

That which You gave up was wholly more lovely
Than all I can see here below,
And the anguish You suffered, the cup which You drank,
Such sorrow now I'll never know.

So may I not tremble to follow Your footsteps,
Who holds every tear I have cried,
Surrender dear dreams, and trust through the darkness,
And find true, pure joy at Your side.