Wednesday, May 14, 2014

Answers

To tell the truth, I felt more drained and spent on this day with no to-do's than I felt all that week past that just refused to end. My friend tells me that sick people need rest; everybody needs rest, and if there's anything I've learned today is that I am sick and I am human.
I cough and sniffle as petals fall from the wildflowers I picked the other day. I relate to them. One day, all fresh and dewy, beautiful and fragrant ... then the next day they're fading. Pieces of them are falling off. Nobody look at me, because I'm not supposed to look like this. Give me a second to put on my makeup. I'll be acceptable, I swear.
Because somebody told me that when I wilt, I'm no longer beautiful. I think the name beneath that quotation was my own. 
Breathing is a fight today.
I had intended to rest and prepare myself for another crazy weekend. Halfway through the mandatory TV show, I get an email that changes everything. Finally, a diagnosis for my condition ... but it's so scary. I'm a basket case, caught between laughing and sobbing. So many people were there for me, but I felt absolutely alone. 
I twisted other people's words into insults, then reacted accordingly. I cried while sitting on a freezer in the basement. I ate a fudgesicle. I did my signature flying air kicks of anger. It wasn't pretty. 
I've had the urge all day to sit on a couch crying, with comfort food on one side, and a comforting friend on the other. In my pajamas. 
So the wigging out happened when I was asked to do Grown Up things, and have Actual Thought Processes, and make Decisions. 
I'm worse than a toddler at this point. 

There's also a thought war going on. Because I know better. 
I have voices in my head, from Scriptures, from family members, from friends, etc. 
Cast all your cares.
Take every thought captive.
You're safe with Jesus.
You're safe. 
You're going to be okay.
God is God and God is good.
Nothing can snatch you out of My hand.
He is with us. 
You are for me. 
Turn your eyes upon Jesus.
Even if the healing doesn't come.
Your love never fails.
He's got this.
You are not alone.

And then my own words hit me just as hard.

So I will run toward all You are,
Take Your hand and embrace Your scars,
Knowing that You bled so I could breathe again. 
Carry me, 
Help me breathe.
Your love alone can heal this fragile heart.