4/10/2008

"For oft, when on my couch I lie"

I've been having a hard time of late. A pretty wretched GI bug landed me in the ER about a month ago and my recovery has been long and drawn out. Multiple visits to the doctor's office a week for blood tests on my thyroid, adrenal gland, and lithium, sugar and electrolyte levels and the occasional IV have worn me out, spent out my sick time and left me frustrated. Taking me off all of my psych meds has proved to be a really bad idea, especially since it didn't help them to a diagnosis other than "not a prescription side effect." I'm feeling better physically now and I don't have to drink two liters of Gatorade to sit upright all day.

It'll take a while to get me back on all of my psych meds. It'll take quite some time for my bank accounts to recover. Hey, Bush! That stimulus check would be awesome about now. I'm worried that I'm wearing out my support network and I'm not out of the woods yet. I'm hanging in there like a kitten on a motivational poster and I really wish I could just curl up in someone's lap for a little while.

I turn to the Bible, I turn to God. I have received great comfort. But God isn't going to pack a bag for me if I have to go into the hospital, or for that matter drive me there. He isn't going to fill out the FMLA forms for me. He can't play Super Smash Brothers Brawl with me. He can't go to the grocery store for me. But he will never leave nor forsake me.

In the depths of my loneliness, wishing that someone would just step in and take care of me, I am reminded that I have known the highest form of Love. I have been stripped bare and found worthy of His forgiveness. I have a Holy memory to hold on to in the darkness. I am blessed and I'm going to be fine.

The Lord will surely comfort Zion and will look with compassion on all her ruins; he will make her deserts like Eden, her wastelands like the garden of the LORD. Joy and gladness will be found in her, thanksgiving and the sound of singing.
-Isaiah 51:3

The depths of His mercy brings tears to my eyes and I am filled with prayers of Thanksgiving. All my love is Thine, Lord.

In the midst of my own miseries, my aunt Mary Beth lost her battle with breast cancer. My loneliness cannot compare to what my uncle Ed is going through, having lost his wife of over twenty five years. My own troubles are compounded by the loss, however, and by my concern for Ed and his kids, both grown and nearly so.

As they circle the wagons, I am praying that they are taking comfort in each other and in knowing that she is no longer in pain. I am hoping that they are able to relish the memories of her humor and kindness amidst their grief. I am praising God that they took care to get their affairs in order as best they could before she passed. I pray for them to know the comfort I have known and that someday we will all (friends, family and strangers alike) be singing songs of praise in the gardens that are rising from the ruins in our lives.

Love,
Elizabeth Bathurst