I crawled into bed last night, after painfully making my way downstairs from watching the season premier of Idol with Greg. "What is with both of my hips getting into the action now, to join my hurting ankles and feet?" I was discouraged again. I shuffled carefully like my 94 yr old Daddy did, down the long hallways toward our bedroom. I like to go to bed again, now that I can sleep much of the night without pain. But I was becoming overwhelmed with thoughts of getting worse and worse (pictures of being greatly deformed & of debilitation were flooding my mind), thoughts of Greg finding an active, healthy woman to have a fun life with, and thoughts of poor poor Barb. I crawled (literally) into bed, with Greg quickly joining me to read his novel.
I usually like to have my meltdowns alone with the Lord. I can be totally ridiculous, wail and sob out my self-pity and scripture verses of God's promises, which always end up lifting me out of the familiar but dark pit. But with my sweetheart next to me (well, the dog was between us, but we were in close proximity), I didn't want to subject Greg to my drama on top of all the rest of caring for me he is sweetly enduring (it's taking endurance for both of us on some days). He massaged my fingers sticking out of the wrist braces and rubbed my neck. I smiled towards him with eyes closed, trying to hold back the flood of tears ready to break through the dam. With drama of soul but not of outward expression, I gratefully fell rather quickly asleep.
I got up at 6am, having overslept my normal 5:30am rising. I stepped out of bed, and felt overwhelmed with God's new mercies this morning. My hips & ankles felt pain free, I could walk from my bed without shuffling. Eagerly I entered my "sanctuary" where I meet with the Lord each morning. Having set myself up for the morning the previous night as I always do, I boiled my tea water and sat down with my Bible, Jesus Calling devo, and iPad. I read my Joni Eareakson Tada daily devo & my Presidential Prayerline devo on my iPad. Sweet stuff. It always is.
When I got to the Psalms (ch 18, vs. 1-15) in the Scriptures. The psalmist penned my exact sentiments: "I love you, LORD, my strength. The LORD is my rock, my fortress and my deliverer; my God is my rock, in whom I take refuge, my shield and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold." I pictured each of these metaphors, heartily agreeing with each. "I called to the LORD, who is worthy of praise, and I have been saved from my enemies." Yes yes, calling....worthy of praise....'being' saved from my ailment-enemies...And then it launched into the drama I felt the night before. Cords of death entangling me, torrents of destruction overwhelming me......and God coming from heaven in blazing fashion to rescue this poor, poor woman. I almost chuckled out loud. God has a great sense of humor! I didn't feel made fun of, but he was laughing with me in my fresh perspective of how small my issues are compared to so so many around the world and even in my city. When the drama pounds on my door, I need to quickly run to my Archer...."He shot his arrows and scattered the enemy." Yes You did Lord, You do that! And my enemies of pain, self-pity, exhaustion, self-focus. Thank you my Deliverer!