Restored by Divine Design
"Whom have I in heaven but you? I desire you more than anything on earth. My health may fail, and my spirit may grow weak, but God remains the strength of my heart; He is mine forever” (Psalm 73:25-26, NLT).
It has been a difficult few weeks.
Restoration takes a long time. Waiting can cause you to feel as if your hope is fading. Frustration can set in, and before you know it, you are discontent, wondering if life will ever be the same again. Doubt begins to flare like the flames of an untended campfire.
Only the words of our loving Heavenly Father can dampen those feelings of discouragement and despair. Psalm 73:25-26 reminds me of God's part in my life and in my circumstances. Some of my journey can be seen in the rearview mirror as I move on down the road. Some of my journey with chronic pain is still ahead of me.
Regardless, God remains the strength of my heart.
I don't like having to tell my family and friends that the "burn is back." I'm processing my thoughts and feelings about it. I was pain-free for four glorious minutes! Remission at last! All it took was a bump to my thumb during the night, and the pain returned. Surprisingly, I wasn't undone about it. I rolled my eyes and thought, "Here we go again!"
After several weeks had passed, I found myself dealing with pain differently. It doesn't send me “over the edge" anymore. My outlook has changed.
If you've never heard of the neurological disease RSD before, it might help to know its symptoms. My primary symptom is a sense of burning, similar to being splattered with hot grease. The only difference is the pain’s duration; it’s not momentary but continuous. My left hand, arm, and neck are affected.
I share this only for the sake of understanding. I have been living with Reflex Sympathetic Dystrophy since 2013. I can't get my brain around that time frame. During the first three years, I thought the unrelenting pain would never end. Now it's become part of my life story.
God has been reshaping me over the past few years. I’m a different person than I was before my health changed. I'm responding to God differently. In general, I'm hopeful that I’m responding to my circumstances in a God-honoring way.
My spirit is at peace with God.
I don't know when the transition began. It didn't happen overnight. Maybe when I began asking God to help me accept where He has me? Or maybe when I told Him that I am willing to submit and surrender to Him and a life with chronic pain?
Pain consumes my life if I let it. I lose perspective, and I become emotionally shut down. I struggle to reach out to God and others.
What keeps you from focusing on God when life is throwing you a curveball? What thoughts distract you and keep you from turning to God?
Peace comes to ...
“... all whose thoughts are fixed on You (God)!" (Isaiah 26:3, NLT).
Being thankful has become a supernatural experience for me.
Having a grateful heart has to be intentional for me because my mind is distracted by pain. Pain is draining, and it’s hard to avoid replaying it over and over in my mind. Thanking God takes my mind off "me." I stop rehearsing and obsessing over pain, and my perspective changes. It’s not natural for me in my present condition to be thankful. That's why I say it is "super" natural. God is enabling me to rise above how I feel, and He helps me express a heart attitude of gratitude.
"Be thankful in all circumstances, for this is God's will for you who belong to Christ Jesus" (I Thessalonians 5:18, NLT).
Joy comes from God alone.
For the first three years of my pain journey, my pain level hung at an 8 to 10 (on a scale of 1 to 10). I could hardly think straight or even function normally. Joy eluded me. Now, my pain level hangs around a 5 to 7 most days. I am overwhelmed with joy, and I feel like my life is being renewed. I would like to be pain-free, but I am so thankful for a minor reprieve that I can't help but be ecstatic about it.
"I pray that God, the source of all hope, will fill you completely with joy and peace because you trust in Him. Then you will overflow with confident hope through the power of the Holy Spirit" (Romans 5:13, NLT).
Here are some things I have learned and embraced over the past few months:
Chronic pain causes me to be more emotional. My emotions no longer rule the day. They may not even be reality.
Chronic pain has stripped away my confidence. With God's help, my perspective on who I am has been transformed.
Restoration is an ongoing process. On any given day, I may feel good one minute and not so good the next. I have learned to be patient in the midst of pain because restoration doesn't happen quickly.
All circumstances are redeemable when God is in the picture. I am getting used to the "new me." It’s doubtful that the old me will return. God is in the business of creating something new.
As I wrap my thoughts around how God is restoring my life, I want to share the following passage of Scripture. I share this because, when I read and think about it, I am overwhelmed with how much God loves me. He doesn't just love me; He loves you, too.
"For the Lord has comforted His people and will have compassion on them in their suffering. Yet Jerusalem says, ‘The Lord has deserted us; the Lord has forgotten us.’ Never! Can a mother forget her nursing child? Can she feel no love for the child she has borne? But even if that were possible, I would never forget you! See, I have written your name on the palms of my hands" (Isaiah 49:14–16a, NLT).
It’s now December 2022. In the late spring I had my second spinal cord stimulator put in to help control pain in my lower extremities. The treatment plan was rocky at first, and then the stimulator got into the right rhythm for me and I’m experiencing remarkable relief. Complete pain relief is no longer my longing or goal; my desire is for decent pain management.
God is restoring me by His Divine Design. In heaven I will get a new body and be pain-free. Oh, what a glorious day that will be. But He is also restoring me on earth. He is restoring my Greatest Love, to be more like Jesus — more at peace with God, more thankful, more patient in the midst of pain, more focused on His unending love. Like a mosaic, His design is beautiful.