Pain stinks. It really does. God’s work in our hearts over the past couple of months has been amazing, but he has chosen in his loving providence and sovereignty to allow Linda to hurt – and hurt a lot. I suppose this is the reality when you choose to not take the pain medicine because the side effects are worse than just suffering through the pain? I’m a guy, and I think my wife’s amazing. One of my roles in this marriage is attempting to be her superman. That’s why I carry all 10 bags of groceries from the van into the house in one trip – even though it results in cutting off all the blood to my arm as 20 thin plastic handles burrow their way into my skin. That’s why I try to move the piano by myself, sacrificing our wood floor in the process. I want to be her superman. But apparently my wife’s pain is kryptonite. She attempts to navigate the pain throughout the day and I do my best to navigate being sensitive while at the same time saying doltish and dull-witted things to make her smile. I’m sure many of you are aware of how many ridiculous things I’m capable of coming up with. [No comments are needed on this point by the way. 🙂 ]
While pain lays its’ ever present hand on Linda’s body, we still rejoice in the many and varied blessings that we have experienced. As of now we are still thankful that she’s not lost her hair. That may come, but until it does we’ll be thankful – and if she does lose it we’ll figure out how to be thankful for that too. As well, we are thankful that many of the other side effects have not been too drastic. Nausea and Chemo brain (foggy brain) have occurred a couple of times, but have not been very severe. Although, I must say, Linda’s chemo brain seems as sharp as my normal brain, but it’s been nice having been right a couple of times in the last couple of weeks. Granted, maybe she just wasn’t sharp enough to catch that I was wrong.
We are constantly encouraged by our church family and the many friends and loved ones near and far. Your words have been encouraging and your kind acts have brought such comfort. I read a blog posts this morning and the author quoted a line from Beloved Dust. I was really encouraged, especially by the last sentence.
It was in prayer that I came not only to embrace my finitude, but to celebrate it, and rest in the truth that the Creator of the universe was with me. I came to celebrate the truth that I wasn’t God, but indeed I was known by God. In many ways, it was a violent lesson for me. I wrestled with God to maintain the delusion that I was in control of my life. By his grace God wounded me so that I might learn that limping with him in my finitude was better than running on my own. (Jamin Goggin and Kyle Strobel in Beloved Dust)