My Comfort in My Affliction

Just a few weeks ago, I wrote about my chronic pain. An all-too-real, daily, constant, never-ending affliction. Years without answers. Searching for help and finding none.

Today, much has changed, and I now look at the potential – the unbelievable possibility – that I will one day soon be pain-free . . .

Seventeen therapy sessions. At session fifteen, there was no measurable progress. At session sixteen, I was having more good days than bad. Now, discharged from therapy, I have little-to-no back pain most days. My arms still have a long way to go (including pursuit of other methods and therapies, no doubt) . . . but this, my friends, is HUGE.

To say my heart is rejoicing is such a wild understatement. Though my body has by no means reached 100%, I feel like I’ve been given another chance at life. Like I’m a completely new person. A million thoughts swirl around in my head as I begin processing what has just happened to me. I struggled before to find words. I struggle even more to find them now.

Perhaps in the coming days, I’ll share more of the lessons I’ve learned. But for the time being, one simple, grandious truth has captured me:

This is my comfort in my affliction, that your promise gives me life. Psalm 119:50

It was no coincidence that, a few years ago, I was gifted an unusual encounter with a dear soul who taught me to love the Scriptures – just as this chronic pain journey of mine was beginning. And this is literally how I’ve survived.

When the burden felt unbearably heavy, and even sitting or standing or walking was excruciating, I verbally, audibly repeated to myself the promises of the Word.

When my mind was in turmoil over terribly realities and impossible decisions and financial heartaches, the promises of the Word very tangibly sustained me.

When the days were long, and I didn’t want to get out of bed in the morning, I subconsciously clung to every promise of the Word.

When I just couldn’t handle it and didn’t want to think about it, and when my heart cried out in desperation, longing so deeply for any small measure of relief, I drowned myself in the sea of never-ending promises in the Word of God.

The Psalmist speaks of enemies and persecutors and of those who would destroy. I speak of unexplained disease and constant physical suffering and of the war it waged on my soul. In all our afflictions, the greatest comfort to be found is in the Words of the Maker and Keeper of promises.

This is how I’ve survived. This is how I’m alive. And should pain return and consume me yet again, by his grace and overwhelming comfort in affliction, my soul shall live.

 [image credit: unsplash.com]

 


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