my counselor asked… Whats the worst that could happen by accepting gertrude? (gertrude/gerty is what I have named my chronic pain resulting from RA and other health issues, more on that here). by accepting gerry i fear I won’t keep fighting for a better, healthier version of myself. acceptance & giving up seem to go hand-and-hand. I still believe on some level that I can be strong enough to over come the pain. for so long I was lead to believe it was something i could control & it wasn’t real. and even though we have plenty of ‘proof’ of these diseases, I think on some level I still question what if? but I think I’ve tried that… I’ve tried to be stronger than the disease, i’ve tried to ignore it, i’ve tried to power through and it hasn’t worked out, so i suppose i can’t say i didn’t try that route.
so to accept this as reality and not just tolerate it, I begin to flush out what it looks like for this to be my new standard. and the reality that I most likely won’t be any better than I am today and first and foremost i begin to grieve the loss of being the wife & mom & friend I have always envisioned myself to be. this may not sound like much, but it’s devastating, it’s a loss of a dream.
I don’t want to be the mom that doesn’t have the emotional, mental and physical capability and capacity to be available to my family. I hate how much of me is exhausted & depleated by the disease and that I am not able to give my family all of me, the best of me. I don’t believe thats who God designed me to be. I’m engaging, I’m in tune, loving, caring and I am intentional.
how can I reconcile this? who i was designed to be and who i am with the limitation of the disease.
these last couple months have been rough. I have truly and honestly broke both physically & emotionally. I rolled into the new year with an gnarly case of Influenza, which led to two secondary infections, I was on my back for 2 weeks straight. In that time I needed to get off my meds, due-to the infection causing an extra spike in my never absent pain. to say the least my body is still recovering. exhausted and weak. and my kids can’t seem to stay healthy. it feels like one steps forward, seven steps back.
I honest-to-goodness felt no worth and no reason to keep on. in the light of day and with Jesus Grace I know those aren’t truths but behind the darkness of the disease, the battle sometimes feels too much to bear. there are days where it is effort to breathe. I’m 30 years old and I have a lot of life to live. I feel like such a burden to my family like I’m constantly holding them back, like I’m their cross to bear.
everything in me would like to delete that last paragraph, because it is messy and yucky and i am so not proud of it. but if i am going to make this worth both our time, it means getting that vulnerable, it means sharing the yuck.
my counselor actually asked me, do you think they (meaning my kids) would be better off with out you? if i was honest, i think i have always thought it, but saying the words out loud on top of my already fragile state probably initiated the downward spiral.
and just as though the spirit prompted my sweet 5 year old, that very next day on the way to school, i will never forget it. she said, “I love you mom, you are the best, i wouldn’t want any other mom”… Instead of instantly saying thank you & i love you sweets. in my head i was all like, “who told you to say that”. but the one thing about kids, they are honest, you can count on it. and I am enough for her.
In this moment 2 Corthinthians 12:9-10 But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.
I was reading Calm My Anxious Heart, by Linda Dillow last week and i just love this illustration::: She calls it the Teacup Theology,
Let’s go back to our tea analogy. God has lovingly assigned each of us to be a uniquely special teacup. Perhaps we’re an antique cup, painted with dainty roses set in gold. Maybe we see ourselves as an everyday cup—useful, but a little chipped around the edges. Or we could be a heavy-duty mug — rugged, unbreakable, and able to hold much.
Then God fills our cup with our portion, what He determines best. Our portion is our physical and emotional being, our abilities, circumstances, roles, and relationships.
Sometimes we don’t like what’s been poured into our cup. Remember the Lord Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane? When He saw the suffering He was about to endure, He pleaded, “Father, if you are willing, take this cup from me; yet not my will, but yours be done” (Luke 22:42). Christ grasped the handle of His cup and lifted it to God and said, “i accept my portion. infuse me with Your strength that i may drink.”
Every cup—whether dainty china or rough-hewn pottery — has a handle. God has placed our portion in our cup. We either choose to grasp it by the handle and lift it to Him, saying, “i accept my portion; i accept this cup,” or we choose to smash our cup to pieces, saying, “God, i refuse my portion. This cup is not the right size for me and i don’t like what You’ve put in it. i’ll control my life myself.”
let me tell you i have smashed, returned, and just plain rejected cup after cup. so this to me is true acceptance and i am working on daily holding up my cup filled with my portion and saying to the lord “i accept my portion. infuse me with Your strength that i may drink.” one thing is true i can’t do it, but just as that is true, i can do ALL things through HIM who gives me strength. so in my weakness and with the strength of my creator i am graciously accepting my portion.