Today was hard.
I spent an hour writing about the good and the bad, the joy and the despair, not knowing if the words would be read by other people but knowing I needed to write them. I kept thinking of a poem I wrote the same night I composed “Brick by Brick.” The first line reads, “It’s pure kindness that joy and despair can exist like this.”
And it is.
At the time, I was thinking of a different grief. If you’re new here, hi! When I was 16, I spent 14 weeks in the hospital, and I still have PTSD from the experience. Today’s grief is much softer in comparison, but the first line of that poem still applies. Today’s grief is because I have a few health conditions flaring up at the same time. And it’s okay, because I’m really good at coping and spotting blessings from the Lord. My family is a blessing. The fact I could rest today is a blessing. And these words are a blessing. Because if you’re new here, you should also know I lost the ability to read and understand the speech of others for a month when I was 14 after a severe medication reaction, so even on days the words don’t work like I wish they would, I never take them for granted.
But sometimes, despite the blessings, I’m just so tired.
I’m tired because I sleep 10 hours a night, see multiple specialists, prioritize nutrition and movement, take almost a dozen pills a day, and am still as ill as I am. I’m upset I still have days like today where I spend most of the afternoon on the couch, too tired to even hold my head up.
I’m allowed to be thankful the Lord grants me the strength I need for each day while also wishing my body was capable of more. And I can be sad about my body’s limitations while also being so okay with chronic illness, because I know the Lord made no flaw when He created me.
I’m reading Matthew right now, and as I read chapter 9 just minutes ago, I encountered story after story of healing. He heals a paralytic, a young girl, a bleeding woman, a blind man, and a demon-possessed man within this one chapter. Each healing is deeply personal, but the healing extends beyond the one person. Each redemption from illness is a chance for that person and their family, friends, and neighbors to witness Christ, witness hope incarnate, see good stem from pain.
That’s what I’ve always prayed for my life, that others see Christ through my thoughts, my words, my actions, my testimony. I pray every moment points to Him, and yes, I pray that good comes from grief.
I didn’t start writing about my life because vulnerability is easy; I still hold my breath every time I publish a personal blog. I write because I know illness is lonely, and it’s lonelier still when you feel you have to hide it. I hid my health for so long because well-meaning Christians misrepresented Christ in equating sickness with a lack of faith. I started writing so others know God will always heal in His perfect timing. I write because healing on earth and healing in Heaven are both beautiful, and neither shows more favor or love from God.
But even though I know those truths, it’s hard for me to share the difficult moments when I’m actively living them. I know that chronic illness is common, but we still live in a culture of get-well-soon cards, and, well, sometimes people don’t know how to react when “get well soon” means something different in your life. In the past, friends left once they realized I would always have good and less good seasons of health, and even though I’ve since had people stay, the bad experiences still stick with me. I worry that honesty will drive people away, or worse yet, that someone will remember my words about pain more than the ones about blessings.
The other night, though, I realized these fears were from the devil, not Christ. I remembered that years ago, He asked me to write so others might feel less alone. And even though anxiety remains, I also know those who truly care about me would care more, not less, after reading my words.
And so as I read Matthew 9, I got a bit teary-eyed, because it will be an honor to be healed by Christ one day! And until that day, it is an honor to know and be known by Him, to love and be loved by Him! And it is an honor to write about Him.
In short, friends, it is pure kindness that joy and despair can exist like this.