Hopeless, Helpless, Inadequate

If there was only one word I could use to describe how this disease feels, I would use the word hopeless. This disease makes you feel hopeless - hopeless and helpless. These two words sum up my feelings on Rheumatoid Arthritis Disease. Now, I am not hopeless, by any means. I have hope in Christ but that is a different kind of hope, a hope that is certainty in my Savior. I am also hopeful that someday I will go in remission, that someday, somehow, I will find relief from this disease. I know I am not hopeless. However, I still feel hopeless. When you are in chronic pain, every moment of every day, it is almost impossible to not feel this way at least some of the time. My disease reminds me of it’s residency inside my body every waking moment of my life. It reminds me by the dull ache in my muscles and the intense pain in my joints, whether I am walking through a store, laying in bed trying to fall asleep, or simply adjusting myself while sitting on the couch. This disease reminds me of its existence by the utter exhaustion that racks both my body and mind, no matter the amount of sleep I get at night and no matter the amount of energy I have exerted or not exerted (as is more likely) that day. I am reminded of this disease by how well it has made itself at home inside of my body.

. I sit here, on my couch, exhausted, in pain, home from work after only two hours….the only two hours I have been able to work this week. My house is a disgusting wreck...the sink is piled high with dirty dishes, clean laundry is strewn across the living room while the bedroom is piled with dirty laundry. I hate it. I despise the mess. It is embarrassing and humiliating. I am angry I cannot keep up with the housework. I am angry I can barely make it to work each week. I am angry at what this disease has taken from me and continues to take from me. And I am filled with a deep, dismal, hopelessness as I sit and examine my surroundings and ponder my current life. Is this the rest of my life? Will it always be like that? The words of David come to mind, how long, Oh Lord? Will you forget me forever? My God, why have you forsaken me? Why are you so far from helping me, from the words of my groaning? ( Ps 13:1; 22:1). I know my God has not forsaken me, nor has He forgotten me. But, sometimes it can feel like that. There is a reason the scriptures hold so many laments...they are real, they involve the many emotions and feelings that humans experience. They are spoken from the heart in times of distress --- times of pain and suffering, the times in life when hope seems nonexistent. That time for me is right now. . I am reminded of before I was diagnosed and my disease was not quite as rampant in my body. I remember one evening, exhausted and in pain, I pondered on whether I would ever get answers, whether I would ever find a diagnosis. I remember taking a bath and simply spending time, talking to the Lord, listening to the Lord, and thinking deeply about me, my undiagnosed illness, and whether or not the Lord would grant answers and relief to me. It hit me then that perhaps a diagnosis would not be made, perhaps answers would never be found, and perhaps this was the life I was given and the journey I must take. God does not promise healing in this life. Anyone who tells you otherwise has been sold a lie and is selling you a lie. All the faith and prayer in the world will not necessarily heal you; cancer patients still die, coma patients remain in their unconscious state, pain and suffering still remains. God is not a vending machine and He will not always do what we ask of Him or what we would like Him to do. God does promise to heal us after life on this earth and He promises eternal life to those who trust in Him. But we are not guaranteed health, wealth, and happiness this side of heaven (in fact, we are to expect the opposite). . I am reminded now, as I was reminded so long ago, that one night, taking a soak in the bathtub, that it is not our strengths but rather our weaknesses that glorify God the most. It is when I am weak that I find strength in the Lord. My weaknesses show the strength of a God who can overcome all of my weaknesses, all of my feelings of hopelessness, all of my pain and suffering. It is in my His strength and power is weaknesses that His power and strength is made perfect (2 Cor. 12). When I am weak, His strength is all the more evident and powerful. . I am now weaker than I was that night when I pondered my weaknesses and the strength and power of my God. The pain is bigger, the fatigue is stronger, and the feelings of hopelessness and helplessness have grown. But, God’s power and strength remains. His grace is still enough. He is still enough. “At first, I….begged God to remove it. Three times I did that, and then he told me, ‘My grace is enough; it’s all you need. My strength comes into its own in your weakness’. Once I heard that, I was glad to let it happen. I quit focusing on the handicap and began appreciating the gift. It was a case of Christ’s strength moving in on my weakness. Now I take limitations in stride, and with good cheer, these limitations that cut me down to size—abuse, accidents, opposition, bad breaks. I just let Christ take over! And so the weaker I get, the stronger I become. (The Message, 1 Cor. 12:7-10). . I still hope for remission. I still pray for relief from this disease that wreaks havoc on my body, my life, and even my relationships. I am still in pain (and this most likely will not change from any amount of prayer or faith). I am still exhausted. But, I find solace, strength, and power in the One who made me, who loves me, who saved me, and who is and has always been faithful to His people. I am not even sure what my point is with all of this, or if I even had a point to begin with. But I hope that perhaps someone may find comfort in my words, find even a small amount of encouragement in my story, and know that they are not alone.