Why do we Suffer?

One of my favorite writers, Randy Alcorn, made a video with Christian pastor, Greg Laurie on the topic of suffering.  Because I often talk about suffering and because all humans have suffering in common and we often wonder why God allows it, here are a few "quick answers" by one of the leading thinkers on the topic of suffering.  Randy wrote the book If God Is Good and it's obvious he has thought a great deal on the topic.  Check out this link and hear him speak on the topic of pain and suffering.  www.epm.org/resources/2010/Mar/24/why-there-suffering-world-today-video/

Ways I "Keep" my LIfe with a Chronic Disease

I have Psoriatic Arthritis....you know, that disease "that golfer" has.  Only I have it a lot worse than he does.  I've had 4 hip replacement surgeries and both of my shoulders and both of my elbows need to be replaced.  (I'm just holding out until I can't stand the pain anymore).  My spine is a train wreck.  There are openings in the vertebrae called "Facets" and it is through these openings that the nerves travel.  Well, my arthritis is closing up those openings and pinching off those nerves.  When I stand for more than a minute, my leg goes completely numb.  Not pins and needles.  Just completely dead.  And I have shooting pains down my arms where nerves in my neck are being pinched and my hands also go numb.

Also I have Psoriatic Spondylitis.  Which is just like ankylosing spondylitis except the vertebrae fuse in random order rather than from bottom to top.  Already my lumbar back is fused and now I have 3 or 4 fusions in my neck as well.

Pain and fatigue are a huge part of my life.  How do I keep from being overtaken by this disease?  Well, I try really hard to keep it out of my head.  It has taken over my body but it can't have my brain as well!!  I really try hard not to become angry or self pitying.  This is the path God is leading me on....It is not up to me to reject it or to complain about it.  I look for ways in which I can be normal.  Recently I've discovered that if I do it for short periods of time, I can knit like I did years ago.  Thus far I've made three shawls.  This enables me to do something special for people who have blessed me or for the people I love.

I also have learned to do artwork on my computer using a graphics tablet --instead of working with canvases and easels.  It is an outlet for my creativity.  Granted, a lot of times I'm too tired to consider doing it but I do try to keep my art active.  Maybe someday I will have another show....

My kitty keeps me company.  She is important in my life....I know she needs me and I need her as well. 

I do try to  exercise.  True, there are days when I have to practically kick my own butt down the basement stairs to my homemade gym.  Days like today when I'm hurting and just really DON'T feel like moving.  But I've learned, those are the days it's most important for me to move.  Usually after 20 minutes, my body is warm and more flexible than it was to start. It's true that I get really really tired really fast.  I went to a mall the other day and I was foolish and didn't bring either my rolling walker or my wheelchair.  I paid dearly for that error in judgement--but at the same time was kind of proud that I did make it from one end of the mall to the other (with some sit downs in the middle).

I have friends online.  I belong to two different support forums for people with RA or PsA and not only do I learn there about the disease, I make friends, get my questions answered and have a place where it's okay to complain. (I try to avoid complaining in all other avenues of my life....although my husband does hear me moaning and groaning at times.)

These are a few of the practical things I do to keep a grip on my life.  Sometimes it feels like my  life is like trying to hold onto a hand full of sand....It just keeps seeping out between my fingers and falling to the ground. But I do what I can to try to hold on.  And sometimes it just means I have to recognize that there's more sand on the floor than in my hand....and out come the broom and dustpan.

My broom and dustpan are my faith in God.  It is he that owns my life.  It is up to Him what he will do with it.  What is up to me is to live it in a way that honors him.  God should not be my last hope.  He should be my first hope.  He should not play clean up.  He should play builder.  Too often I do all I can in my own strength and when that fails then I call out to God.  I'm learning.  Slowly but surely I'm learning to call out to him at the beginning of every day for that measure of grace that will get me through that day.  He is always willing.  I just need to remember to ask.

Alas and Did my Savior Bleed

Alas! and did my Savior bleed
And did my Sovereign die?
Would He devote that sacred head
For sinners such as I?
[originally, For such a worm as I?]

Refrain

At the cross, at the cross where I first saw the light,
And the burden of my heart rolled away,
It was there by faith I received my sight,
And now I am happy all the day!

Thy body slain, sweet Jesus, Thine—
And bathed in its own blood—
While the firm mark of wrath divine,
His Soul in anguish stood.

Was it for crimes that I had done
He groaned upon the tree?
Amazing pity! grace unknown!
And love beyond degree!

Well might the sun in darkness hide
And shut his glories in,
When Christ, the mighty Maker died,
For man the creature’s sin.

Thus might I hide my blushing face
While His dear cross appears,
Dissolve my heart in thankfulness,
And melt my eyes to tears.

But drops of grief can ne’er repay
The debt of love I owe:
Here, Lord, I give my self away
’Tis all that I can do.

I love this hymn....but especially the last two verses.  The shame of the cross is MY shame.  My face well might blush at the fact that my filthy sin was what necessitated his misery....The impaling of God himself for my lies, rages, and curses.  My heart does dissolve in thankfulness and my eyes melt to tears of gratitude that he saw it as necessary to pay for my failure.  But those teardrops can never repay my debt....all the gratitude of my bursting heart doesn't begin to pay him back....all I can do; all I have is myself.  And I give myself to him.....nothing held back.  It's all I have.  All I can do.

A Flesh Heart

I was just thinking of the title of my blog and my book, "Treasures from Darkness."  None of us really welcome darkness or heartache into our lives do we?  It's the one thing we run from, board our hearts up against. Darkness equals pain.  In my life darkness has meant dark, dense depression and it has meant severe, lonely physical pain that has crippled me and kept me from participating in my own life.  Darkness to some people means grief or loss.  I have not really experienced heart rending loss since my college days when my best friend committed suicide....Not loss of a person, that is.  But I have grieved over the loss of my own freedom and independence.  I've experienced the loss of the things in life that I most enjoyed.....gone at the hand of illness.

I tend not to really think about heartache.  I don't allow myself to really experience grief or sorrow....mostly because in my experience, those things lead to a dark cavern of despair.  Sorrow becomes overwhelming pain and a complete loss of hope.  So, to avoid falling off of that cliff, I simply have closed my heart to sadness. No sadness allowed.  And I recognize that that isn't so very healthy either.  I have not cried in as long as I can recall.  No, that's not true.  I recently cried when my daughter was here.  It was because my husband and I were having words and that led to my tears.  Martial discord is really the only heartache that I've delved into lately.  My heart is guarded against all other types of pain.

But what about the treasure??  What does God want to accomplish in my life as a result of my sorrows?   I know he wants me to have more empathy.  I confess that I'm not the most sympathetic person.  Because I tough things out and because, honestly, my life is very difficult; I do not hold the greatest pity for others who struggle.  And I know that that is wrong.  My pain should have done at least that.  It should have at the very least enabled me to share the heartaches of others....to sympathize in their despair.  Sometimes I look at myself and I think, "Cynthia, really!!  Look at all these wonderful Christian women who drip sympathy.  Who ooze tears and bleed blood along with the hurting people they encounter.  Why can I not be like that? "  God has got to take a meat tenderizer to my heart.  And that would NOT be the most enjoyable experience.  Can you imagine?

But I think that my tough soul shelters some very deep rivers of pain.  And it is out of FEAR of what I may find there that keeps me from opening my heart to the pain of others.  And what does God have to say about that?  I have the feeling that he is beckoning me to put on my wader boots.  Those hip boots that will keep me dry as we transverse and ford those rivers.  He holds out his hand, as he is up to his waist in the river, and says to me "Come."  I don't know what I'll find.  I don't know if the current will knock my feet out from under me.  I don't know if I will discover an empty cold heart.  One that has been so hardened to pain that it is one big hunk of scar tissue that will never feel anything again.  I don't know if my schizophrenia has closed off those avenues of sorrow to me, if this disease has emptied my soul of all human emotion.

But I know that Jesus wants to baptize me in that river. To dunk me under and bring my soul up - a new life from the bowels of death.  I wish I had a tender heart.  I wish I had a merciful heart.  Maybe when Jesus dips me into the river of pain he will birth in me a heart of flesh.  That's what God has promised us right? A heart of flesh.  I want mine.  I'm standing on the Heart of flesh line.  Jesus, break my stone heart and give me one that bleeds.

A God, Close up and Personal

I've been working through Lysa Terkeurst's book "Made to Crave"-a Bible study based on Biblical principles regarding food and diet.  I also signed up to get her blog in my email.....and because of signing up for that she sent me a list of 31 verses in which I was to inject my name so that they would become even more personal.

One of them hit me between the eyes.  Here it is:

Psalm 31:7

I will be glad and rejoice in your unfailing love,

for you have seen my troubles and you care about the 

anguish of my soul.

Isn't that awesome?  God sees my struggles with my weight.  He sees my pain. He sees my marital problems.....and his heart weeps over all of them.  He loves me with such unfailing love that what hurts me, hurts him.  That moved me.
I mean, this is the Creator of the Universe we are talking about here. 

As I was washing my hair yesterday, I noted how many of my hairs were coming out in my hands.  I thought about the fact that God knows the number of hairs on my head....and that number constantly changes.  I had a pastor once who said that there is an angel that reports to God daily on the number of hairs I'd lost that day.  But I disagree with that.  God knows that all on his own. He doesn't need to be told.  His knowledge of me is up close and personal.

I just wanted to share this amazing verse with you. The next time you are suffering and feel alone in your pain, know that the God of all Creation is right with you there in it.  Your pain will not necessarily diminish, but your loneliness will.  Wrap that verse around your soul like a soft quilt.  He is not far.

The Process of Success

 "Success is going from failure to failure without loss of enthusiasm." 

-- Winston Churchill (British Prime Minister)

I did well with my eating plan yesterday....
....Until I was standing in the Chinese restaurant placing our order and what came out of my mouth was not "steamed vegetables and brown rice" but "sweet and sour chicken combo plate"  I don't know how it happened.  There was no forethought except maybe  something like "#$% it".....
And of course, once I"d made the tactical error, I went with it....and ate what I'd ordered.  It  was good.
But it wasn't worth the sick feeling afterward.  And the sick taste of failure that it left in my mouth. 
I know.
Today is new day
But how many days of failure can I string together before the scale bites me back?  Honestly, I think I've reached that limit.  In fact, it may be too late.

So I'm going back to read my blog of two days ago...to reawaken that spark.  I'm getting my butt downstairs to exercise. Now, I'm greatly disappointed about this, but I will be unable to do  Walk Away the Pounds because I think last night I broke a bone in my arthritic foot.  I bashed my foot (with my toes curled under) into a wall and a screaming pain ensued.  It still is really hurting a lot this morning.  The pain is in my big toe and the joint where it connects to my foot.  That's really all I needed

Funny.. I"m listening to the song, Start Over by the AFters. Here is the link to it on Youtube.  The words are so so appropriate. youtu.be/ruV-mHmyTiM

So anyway.  Back to my foot.  I think I will be condemned to using the bike for the next some days until my foot heals.

I was reading a blog by another Spark Persoon based on a book by Ralph Marston(????) she was reading.  It said. "Love the effort" ...I've been loving the "idea" but not the effort that I need to make in order for that idea to come true.  I have failed where the rubber meets the road.  And don't scold me for saying "I've failed"....because I HAVE.  However failure is not a permanent state of being.  It is very much part of the flux of life.  One must ask then, if success is a destination....or a process.  I will let you be the judge of that but for myself, I believe that success is  a process and it is one that INCORPORATES failure and dealing with it.

So it is part of my success to have failed....because in dealing with the failure I learn and I pick myself up and try again.  I persist.  There is that saying, "It is not how many times we fall, but how many times we get up that counts."  That, friends, is the process of success.

So, I'm off today, to add to my success by getting up and dusting myself off, yet one more time.

My Norrmal

So on Sunday, I was talking to our worship leader at church.  He commented on how well I'm getting around: no cane or walker.  "So" he said, "Are things pretty much back to normal? Are you back to your normal schedule?  I knew what he was thinking and where he was going.  He thought, "you're all better now, right?  There's nothing more in your way."  I didn't know how to answer him.  First of all, what is my "normal schedule"??  Does he mean am I back to rollerblading, power walking, and working a 7-3 shift at the hospital?  No.  That normal schedule is over and done with.  Finite.  Done forever.  This body will never again be able to do any one of those things.

So did he mean I'm back to my normal schedule of sitting in my recliner on my laptop, occasionally knitting or going to see a doctor. Well yes, I am.  But it doesn't make sense to say I'm "back to it" because I never left it.  Now it's true, I no longer have Physical Therapy come to my house nor the homecare nurse.  But I don't know.  Maybe I read too much into his question.

But I think it's a question that everyone has whenever they see me walking without an aide.  The fact is that when I walk without an aide is because the cane hurts my shoulders terribly and isn't worth the pain  By back to normal, do people think I"m "without pain?"  OH HOW MUCH I WISH THAT WERE THE CASE!!  But folks.  Pain is here to stay.  I don't know how to describe it, except to say that it's worse than probably anything you'll ever experience, God willing.  There is  never a day, an hour or a minute where at least five body parts are not screaming in unison.  There is never a moment when my spine is not being crushed by the weigh of my skull causing shooting pain down my arm and numbness in my hands  There is never a moment when my hands and shoulders and elbows do not throb.  Opening a bottle of water hurts...even if it's already been opened  Sitting in a chair hurts.  Lying down hurts.  Standing up hurts.  Walking across the floor is excruciating on my feet. I can't get away from it.  I cannot relieve it.

So that is my normal.  Am I "back " to that normal.  Yes.  In fact I never left it.

Jehovah Jireh....Oh God do I need you!

This has been one heck of a day.  I've been beset by needs, both those of my family and my own....ranging from financial to deeply emotional interpersonal stuff.  I'm not going to give you details because as much as I love you, there are limits to what you need to know.  But all day I've been trying to pull myself out of the pit of responsibilities I have around the house, pay bills, and be supportive to my needy family.  I do not call them needy in a derogatory sense.  They are suffering and their suffering breaks and twists my heart in response.  Needless to say, I've been banging on the doors and windows of heaven...praying for God's peace and provision.  There is only so much heartache a person can take in one day.  But God knows our limits.  He knows what we can endure and for every bit that life leans on us,  he hands out sufficient strength for us to stand up under it.

My heart breaks for my immediate family who do not call the God of Heaven, "FAther" as I do.  They are trying to function on their own strength with their own paltry resources.  I pray that their need drives them to the arms of the only One who can help them.  Meantime, I pray for their needs,....and for the state of their hearts.  That God would give them a little hope and rest, while he goes to work to meet the actual needs we have.  I know that God is going to work, even now, to provide for us -- even though we may not see the evidences of that provision until the last possible minute.

Sunday's sermon  was the first in a series of the names of God.  Not coincidently, the name he chose to begin with was Jehovah Jireh.  The Lord, Our Provider.  We were worshiping him thanking him for his provision....little did I know how desperately I would once again need it...just one day later.  I'm grateful for that thought to hold on to.  God's unchanging character as Provider.  It's what he does.  He takes care of his kids just like any good and loving father would do.  I'm so glad I'm one of his kids.

Gutted

I've not had any deep thoughts lately.  Nothing has plumbed my brain deeper than the very surface of it.  I don't know why.  I used to study.  Had revelations ...even in this blog, if you read back a couple of years, you will see a big difference between the me then and the me now.  I don't understand why this is.  I think honestly it is poverty of thought.  Poverty of thought (which leads to poverty of speech) is a symptom of schizophrenia.  It's a symptom that I passionately hate.  I used to be intelligent. I used to have interesting things to think about and to talk about.  Not now.

It makes little difference in say, a social setting where the conversation is about "how's your family?" and "how have you been feeling"...that I can handle.  However, between me and a close friend (my one friend)....sometimes there are long silences.  Fortunately the silences are comfortable....but I long for the day when I had conversations with exchanges of ideas and the excitement of thought spawned by the other person's words.  Now I hear their words and the words fall down the drain of my mind clanking against the empty metal pipes.  No response.  No ideas.

It makes it hard to study my Bible.  I used to read and have numerous deep thoughts. Now I read the words and they are just words.  I know that it does me good to read Scripture....even now.  Because I used to have a terrible problem swearing.   I had a complete garbage mouth.  However since I've been reading the Bible every day, that problem has largely become a thing of the past. I know that this is because of the "washing of the Word"....However, I could not write articles anymore like I used to.  I do not have any ideas about which to write.  I hate this disease.  It has stolen the guts from my brains.

A Place for Me

It's 9:45. Normally I would have been asleep long ago.  But I'm hurting....in every conceivable way.  My body is dealing with pain that varies from a dull ache to sharp, shooting pains. Back, hands, neck, shoulders...feet.  All letting me know they are here and are NOT happy.

And my spirit is in pain too.  I won't go into details but my life is upside down...and there's no one but the Lord to hear me cry out in my mind. No one but the Lord to give a rip. I'm sad. Heartbreakingly, achingly sad.  A long segment of my life is at a close and the unknown future teases me with fear and uncertainty as to the location and means of my survival.

I will find a way.  I will find a means.  I will find a place. I will find energy for all of this somewhere and somehow. God will bring good from it for me.  I can picture that once the initial rending occurs, I will find relief and freedom.  I just need to survive the upheaval.  I just need to get through the changes and need to find myself, singular, apart from selves, plural.

It is not impossible.
It just feels like it is.

A Stitch in Time

Today I've been immersed in knitting and purling. I'm working on  a shawl for my daughter....It will be the same pattern as the reader's shawl I made for myself but her's is in a splendiforous heather colored tweed yarn and so will make mine pale in comparison.  Plus, I have thus far avoided all of the mistakes individualisms that mine had incorporated into it.  Here is a sneak peek ( if you promise not to tell her you saw it here.)

Knitting is one of the best ways to solidify and express love and to materialize prayers.....I knit my prayers right alongside my love into every stitch of the piece and when she wears it she will be in the embrace of my love and the love of the Father as well.  How. perfectly. perfect.

Did you note my snazzy knitting needles? I got them on Etsy.com.  It's a kit with nine sizes of needles and three sizes of cord and end stoppers to screw onto the cord when you are taking a break from knitting but don't want all of your stitches to slide off the needles.  Each of the sizes of needles is a different colored wood and they feel luscious in your hands.  I had a similar set years ago but they were plastic and altogether inferior.  Yes, they were a bit expensive but when I did the math....9 pairs x 3 different types of needles (double point, single point and circular) that this kit encompasses all in one I actually saved a pretty penny had I had to purchase 27 pairs of needles.   And can you imagine digging through 27 pairs of needles to find the one you want?  Mine are all neatly kept in a carrying case and it's a simple matter to take out the ones you want.

Anyway....the materials pale in the act.  The act of prayer.  The act of creation.  The act of love.  When I give someone a project I've made, I'm giving them a slice of my life and a piece of my soul.  I don't know why I quit knitting.  But I quit it as thoroughly as I quit smoking.  I got rid of all my yarn and every iota of knitting paraphernalia that I had.  It's as though I wanted no reminders.  And I don't know why.  It's such an act of joy.  It's taking a moment that may have been wasted in mindlessness and using it to create an item of love for someone.  Redeeming the hours that would otherwise have been lost.  I'm so glad I picked up this old hobby that I'd trashed along with my past.  A past I wanted to forget and to pretend it never happened.  And knitting was a part of that, I guess.  But that piece of my history I want now to resurrect.  And it is bringing me joy.

Rhythms of Obedience

Last Wednesday my husband had two more stents added to the three already in his chest.  Now he has a total of three usable coronary arteries open and free of plaque. Those will buy him time until he has reverse the heart disease by diet, weight management and moderate exercise.  It would be so cool to be able to work out with him...and totally awesome if he would buy us twin gym memberships although honestly, I don't see that happening.  My husband is too much of a loner.  It will even be a miracle if he allows me to workout at the same time as him.

As for me, I'm still counting the days until April 2nd, when I'm allowed to exercise again.. My husband has to wait 6 weeks from his stent placement which puts him a week or two following my start date.  We are both anxious to begin.  I'm going to work on outdoor exercise again this year....going to begin a waking program...It will be nice to be able to survive walking these hills once again.  That will also go a long way toward pulmonary rehabilitation.

As I approach Easter this year, my heart is so sad I can barely stand it.  Last year, my friend, Vicki and I held an online Easter service all our own. I'd made an EAster playlist which we watched on Youtube together and then I called her on the phone and read to her a reading I'd selected for the occasion.  We did this at sunrise.  It was our very own sunrise service...both of us were out on our decks watching the sun rise.  I miss my friend with all my heart.  She passed away and went to heaven about a month ago.   I still am not used to the loneliness online.  I have not found anyone to replace her in my chat time.

First I lost David and then Vicki.  I was friends with each of them for about four years....(with Vicki, it may have been three years).  I'm almost too afraid to get a new chat partner....afraid to lose them as well.

I have been bereft of spiritual revelation for quite a while now.  I'm having daily devotions for the first time in quite a while.  I"m reading the Bible in a year.  And I'm also doing another book which is based on the Church calendar.  I'm enjoying both of them a lot and have had mini revelations but nothing momentous enough to share here. I wonder why that is?  Some times I think God takes us through periods of spiritual dryness where we are compelled to be obedient and we enjoy the rhythms of obedience but yet he does not open our eyes to any great new understandings of himself.... He proves himself to be daily faithful....He hears our prayers.  He provides for our needs.  And that must be enough.  Enough for now anyway.