Could be considered an expansion from (or an addition to) my Thankfulness list.
My soul has been rejected from peace; I have forgotten happiness.
So I say, “My strength has perished, and so has my hope from the Lord.”
Remember my affliction and my wandering, the wormwood and bitterness.
Surely my soul remembers, and is bowed down within me.
This I recall to my mind, therefore I have hope.
The Lord’s lovingkindnesses indeed never cease, for His compassions never fail.
They are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness.
“The Lord is my portion,” says my soul, “Therefore I have hope in Him.”
The Lord is good to those who wait for Him, to the person who seeks Him.
Sometimes, in the midst of sanctifying struggles and pain, God gives a burst of hope.
Like I’ve mentioned in previous blog posts, for the past few months, I’ve been experiencing traveling joint pain. At first, I thought it was simple tendon injuries or osteoarthritis. I was running and dancing, after all. But when my arms started to seize up in pain (I looked like a T-Rex. No joke), I knew something was up.
Long story short, visits to a rheumatologist revealed that something deeper was wrong with my joints. The doctor ordered what seemed like a quart of my blood to test for Lyme, Sjogren, lupus, and rheumatoid arthritis. She’s 95% sure I have psoriatic arthritis, but she can only diagnose it by process of elimination.
During this time of uncertainty, the Lord was teaching me hard, hard lessons of trust in Him. Trust in His silence about my pain. Trust in the bleak thought that maybe I have a chronic disease. Trust that despite the fact I couldn’t sleep the night before from the pain, I could still operate as a technical writer for my company today.
I thought I had the “trusting God” thing down. Ha! What a silly assumption.
It was a dark, ominous, stormy past four months. And while I’m not being treated for the pain yet, God has given me a ray of sunshine — even if it’s just for this week.
The doctor prescribed a week’s worth of steroids.
I feel 24 again.
I can bend my knees. I can squat — and then get back up without help. I can hop out of bed. I can flop onto my bed. I can run up the stairs. I can walk normally down the stairs. I don’t need to hold onto something and grit through pain when I sit down or stand up. I can move my arms in the range of motion with which they were created.
And yes, I know it’s temporary.
But everyday this week, I’ll be thanking God for this week-long blessing. I clung to God during my time of pain. I prayed fervently for solutions. I prayed for contentment. I whimpered in frustration and cried, “How long, O Lord?” almost daily. And I knew, even though it was horribly difficult, and God felt infinitely distant, I knew God molding me.
And it’s such a sweet, sweet thing to be reminded of my heavenly Father’s attentiveness to even me, who saw my tears, who heard my frustrations, who knew my pain. I know I’ll return to the pain in just a few days, but oh how good to feel the kindness of God, even for a week.