Tired. Exhausted. Fatigued. Sleepy. Worn Out. Lethargic.
Weary.
Those words are hardly new to me for I have carried them on
my back for so very long.
Long before the depression and anxiety railroaded me. Long
before my medication list became a cocktail. Long before I hit rock bottom.
Those words have been dragging me down.
I wake each morning tired. I go through my day tired. I lie
down for a nap tired and wake each afternoon tired. I play with my kids tired.
I cook dinner tired. I talk with my husband tired. I go to bed tired.
No it never goes away. With rest I can take the painful edge
off, but I never feel awake or energized. It is always a burden.
There have been moments were this cloud of tiredness has
lifted – and oh what glorious moments they have been. But they are not
sustained.
I have had to learn to live amidst this fog. I could not
expect to stay in bed all day and heal my life, so I have done my best. The vast majority of people I interact with each day would never suspect the burden I carry.
Long ago, my doctor promised me that, “she would not leave
me here”, that we would solve the fatigue problem in time, but I would have to
be patient. I would have to be weaned off the high dosages of my medications. I
would have to navigate the world of difficult therapies. But in time, we would
address the fatigue.
Well the time has come. My medications are drastically
reduced. I have climbed mountains, with the help of my therapist, which I
thought were impossible.
But, still the fatigue has remained.
We are now running a battery of tests. My stubborn and
slow-pumping veins had 10-minutes of blood drawn from them this morning. I’m so
desperate for an answer that I want something, anything to show up. But I know
the chances are slim, for all of these tests have already been performed in the
past and come back normal.
So what now?
I have put my hope in medication.
I have put my hope in therapy.
I have put my hope in blood work.
I have put my hope in time.
I have put my hope in doctors.
I now feel hopeless.
But when I return to my praying knees I am reminded that my
hope has been in the wrong place. I need to fully surrender to my God. I am
realizing that splitting my hope between God and something earthly is not
working. I need to stop grasping and fall into His loving arms. I need to let
Him carry me.
I must put all my hope in the Healer for He, alone, has the
answers.
I need to remember “The
LORD is good to those whose hope is in Him, to the one who seeks Him” (Lamentations
3:25).
I will seek Him.
At this time when I feel so discouraged I will remember that
my Heavenly Father delights to keep His word. I will remember the promise of
Deuteronomy 31:8 “The LORD himself goes
before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do
not be afraid; do not be discouraged”
I will not be afraid. I will not be discouraged.
“Blessed are those
whose help is the God of Jacob, whose hope is in the Lord their God.” (Psalms
146:5)
No matter what happens, no matter what healing looks like I
will remember that I am completely blessed. For I have a relationship with my
Creator. That He loved me so much that He gave me Jesus.
And it is there that my hope lies – at the foot of the
Cross. For if Jesus could carry the cross for me, I will carry this burden
until the Father chooses to take it from me. Yes, in comparison, my burden is
so very light.
Thank you Jesus.
