He Is Because I Am Not
Chronic pain sucks.
After multiple doctor appointments and surgeries, my sister received news from the doctor that she would live with the pain in her hip for the rest of her life.
It took myself about a full year and half for the news to settle in. My sister didn't talk about it with anyone outside of our family for the first couple of years. She barely talked about it with the family for the first year. Whenever I tried to bring it up, she would respond with, "I have my whole life to talk about it. So let's not." That's the hardest part of chronic pain - it's chronic. You don't know how to navigate a problem that sees no end date. But you do learn to cope and to cry and to pray.
It is difficult to be completely helpless in a loved one's suffering. I'm not only helpless but I lack any understanding what a normal day is for my sister. I don't know the pain she feels. I don't know the mental courage she faces when a normal day at work turns into an unbearable one. I don't know the spiritual warfare she undergoes when she's lying awake at three in the morning because her pain won't let her sleep. All I know is that I see my baby sister in pain. I see her cry, I see her muscles spasm when we've sat too long in church, I see her nap whenever she can to collect needed hours of sleep. When I see my sister, I see the bravest and strongest person I know.
Recently, we've received more news regarding her chronic pain. When I admitted to my sister that I grieved over the news for a week she said, "Why? You can't do anything about it." To which I responded with, "Do you not know who I am? That's exactly why I cried about it." If anyone has an older sister, they know that we are bossy, nurturing, loving, and over-protective. For the last 23 years, I've been my sisters' protector. I was expected to set a good example for them. I was the "designated baby sitter" when mom and dad were out of the house. I'm the last one to hear about any boys in their life because they know I'll have too much of an opinion. I find joy in providing for my sisters whether it be protection, love, solutions, or encouragement.
But here's the thing. I am not my sister's protector. I am not my sister's healer. I am not my sister's source of peace and joy. I am her sister - made of the same broken earthly bones and spirit.
God is her protector. God is her healer. God is her peace. God is her joy. God is her strength. God is her answer. God is ever present in every way. What a blessing it is to surrender my sister into the hands of the Creator! The Creator who created her broken body to reflect his grace, strength, redemption, and the gift of faith. The Creator who daily provides comfort to my sister when she feels empty. And the Creator who will use my sister's faith to demonstrate His glory and grace.
My sister is not her pain. My sister is His beloved. Her source of joy as a Child of God begun when the holy waters of baptism dripped on her forehead 21 years ago. She is a an heir of the Kingdom of God which was given to her through His bloodshed and suffering. He suffered, so she may not. He claims her pain as His own. My sister lives under the renewing and life-giving waters of baptism. She receives His broken body so her earthly body may be redeemed as holy and righteous. I stand on and rest in these promises of my Creator.
Lord,
Thank you for being my sister's Creator and Caretaker. When I doubt Your goodness, may I be reminded of your unceasing grace and powerful redemption. If it is in Your will, I boldly ask you to relieve my sister of her pain. And if not, I pray that You may provide her strength, grace, and joy. Thank You for placing two incredible sisters under my care. Provide peace to my parents as they grieve over their "little one." May they live under complete peace that You are her caretaker, healer, protector, and source of strength. All glory be to You.
Amen.
After multiple doctor appointments and surgeries, my sister received news from the doctor that she would live with the pain in her hip for the rest of her life.
It took myself about a full year and half for the news to settle in. My sister didn't talk about it with anyone outside of our family for the first couple of years. She barely talked about it with the family for the first year. Whenever I tried to bring it up, she would respond with, "I have my whole life to talk about it. So let's not." That's the hardest part of chronic pain - it's chronic. You don't know how to navigate a problem that sees no end date. But you do learn to cope and to cry and to pray.
It is difficult to be completely helpless in a loved one's suffering. I'm not only helpless but I lack any understanding what a normal day is for my sister. I don't know the pain she feels. I don't know the mental courage she faces when a normal day at work turns into an unbearable one. I don't know the spiritual warfare she undergoes when she's lying awake at three in the morning because her pain won't let her sleep. All I know is that I see my baby sister in pain. I see her cry, I see her muscles spasm when we've sat too long in church, I see her nap whenever she can to collect needed hours of sleep. When I see my sister, I see the bravest and strongest person I know.
Recently, we've received more news regarding her chronic pain. When I admitted to my sister that I grieved over the news for a week she said, "Why? You can't do anything about it." To which I responded with, "Do you not know who I am? That's exactly why I cried about it." If anyone has an older sister, they know that we are bossy, nurturing, loving, and over-protective. For the last 23 years, I've been my sisters' protector. I was expected to set a good example for them. I was the "designated baby sitter" when mom and dad were out of the house. I'm the last one to hear about any boys in their life because they know I'll have too much of an opinion. I find joy in providing for my sisters whether it be protection, love, solutions, or encouragement.
But here's the thing. I am not my sister's protector. I am not my sister's healer. I am not my sister's source of peace and joy. I am her sister - made of the same broken earthly bones and spirit.
"I Am Who I Am."
-Exodus 3:14
God is her protector. God is her healer. God is her peace. God is her joy. God is her strength. God is her answer. God is ever present in every way. What a blessing it is to surrender my sister into the hands of the Creator! The Creator who created her broken body to reflect his grace, strength, redemption, and the gift of faith. The Creator who daily provides comfort to my sister when she feels empty. And the Creator who will use my sister's faith to demonstrate His glory and grace.
My sister is not her pain. My sister is His beloved. Her source of joy as a Child of God begun when the holy waters of baptism dripped on her forehead 21 years ago. She is a an heir of the Kingdom of God which was given to her through His bloodshed and suffering. He suffered, so she may not. He claims her pain as His own. My sister lives under the renewing and life-giving waters of baptism. She receives His broken body so her earthly body may be redeemed as holy and righteous. I stand on and rest in these promises of my Creator.
Lord,
Thank you for being my sister's Creator and Caretaker. When I doubt Your goodness, may I be reminded of your unceasing grace and powerful redemption. If it is in Your will, I boldly ask you to relieve my sister of her pain. And if not, I pray that You may provide her strength, grace, and joy. Thank You for placing two incredible sisters under my care. Provide peace to my parents as they grieve over their "little one." May they live under complete peace that You are her caretaker, healer, protector, and source of strength. All glory be to You.
Amen.
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