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Bad News is Harder to Share

March 9, 2015

Since I shared the news when things were beginning to go exceptionally well, it kind of seems like I owe you an update.

In January, I began a focused effort to do everything I could to help my body heal. Of course, the previous four and a half years had been nothing more than a continual sequence of such “focused efforts,” and I had nothing to show for it. With that track record, I was ecstatic when January’s efforts began to produce positive results. I had energy for the first time in years. ENERGY! Most of my symptoms began fading into memory. I was beginning to feel like myself again.

This wasn’t the first time I had started to feel better. In fact, the last few years brought many periods of moderate improvement that I mistook for the beginning of the road to good health. Each time, though, the symptoms would return in full force. But this one felt different.

Chronic fatigue is a difficult thing to understand if you have not borne its chains, so I cannot adequately convey the exhilaration of waking up with energy. But that was January. Exhileration. Hope. Life.

A few weeks later, that all started to disappear. I felt… bleh. Because my sinuses were being especially ornery, I attributed the daily aches and sluggishness to some bug my body was probably fighting to overcome. Ben had just recovered from such a bug, so it was a reasonable and convenient explanation.

As the days progressed, though, I began to open my eyes to the truth… that all of my symptoms were returning. It wasn’t just a bug. My nightmare was resuming.

To put it simply… I am crushed. I don’t know how to describe the devastation of tasting life again, only to have it ripped away with such violence. I tried denial (the bug I was supposedly fighting), but I value the truth too much to keep that going. Now I seem to be in the “weep until your body withers from dehydration” stage.

I am grateful for the days that I had. I will continue to cherish that little respite. But I don’t know how to keep going. I am terrified.

Please pray for me. I needed that last break to be different. And the Comforter feels so far away. I know I cannot do this without Him. I want to confidently declare that God is good, that He is faithful, and that His leadership is perfect. But I am 99% sure that those aren’t the things I truly believe in this moment. Oh, God, help me believe!

The sickness always comes with a crippling wave of accusation.

I have history with the Lord. Somewhere within me are the memories of His steadfast love and faithfulness. I will labor to remember. I will do all that I can to hold fast to hope. And I will fight every day to drag myself out of bed.

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3 comments

  1. This is heartbreaking. I am more sorry than I can say.

    It is brave of you to write so honestly about it. Brave of you to wrestle instead of covering over.

    If only being brave were a consolation. But of course it is not. Though it IS a sign of the Spirit being present, even though He seems utterly absent.

    To say I am praying seems so inadequate.


  2. Thanks for sharing, we all have ‘bad news’ we would like to keep to ourselves. Not wanting to add to the readers thoughts. But it is healthy to share and to allow others to step in for you in prayer. Let others keep you lifted to help you gain strength. I thank God for the rest you had and I pray for more of it in the future for you. God Bless you Christine.


  3. Do remember that God is always there no matter what. In Matthew 8:17 speaking of Jesus Christ it says, “…Himself took our infirmities, and bare our sicknesses.” He understands what you are going through. I cannot imagine what it is like not to be able to wake up feeling full of energy and excited for the day. But Jesus knows. Let that help strengthen your faith. That that be a comfort to you in your hour of darkness. You are in my prayers.



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