Quit Yer Bellyachin'

"Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things." - Philippians 4:8 (NIV)

Happy New Year! Or is it?

If the Christmas season is "the happiest time of the year" then is it any wonder that after all the tinsel and glittering decorations are packed back up in the attic (except in my house, of course, where we are total slowpokes about leaving the holiday season behind), there seems to be a period of letdown?

Yes, here we are in January, and 'tis the season to work on those resolutions. Whether you're trying to lose weight or get organized, this time of the year can just feel hard.

Gone are the holiday parties. Now it's time to work off the 10 pounds you put on while noshing on all that fabulous food consumed at them. Forget the tinsel and bows around the Christmas tree. Now you're trying to find a place to put it all, as you search for those financial files underneath the rolls of wrapping paper strewn across your office.

Returning to Laughter

“So those who went off with heavy hearts will come home laughing, with armloads of blessing.” – Psalm 126:6

It’s been two years since I began this blog. Two years since my father died. Two years since I was diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis (RA). Two years of many tears.

Two years ago, all I could see was pain. Emotional. Physical. Even spiritual, as I shook my fist at God and questioned “Why?” and “Why now?”

Being diagnosed with a chronic, progressive, incurable illness like RA has a way of derailing us emotionally. There we are, headed down the path of life, full of dreams of where we want to go, and suddenly, it all comes to a screeching halt.

I imagine it might be a little like being diagnosed with cancer. There’s something surreal about being told you have a disease that literally has the power to take your life (and yes, RA is more than just joint pain – it can, in fact, be deadly).

Unlike with cancer, however, where the biggest question is often “Can I beat this?” the question for people with autoimmune disorders – RA, lupus, multiple sclerosis, ulcerative colitis, psoriasis and more – is “Can I live with this?” There is no beating it. Even if they go into remission for a time, these are diseases you are stuck with for the rest of your life.

Grieving a diagnosis like this is much like grieving any other loss, though. There are five stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression … and eventually, acceptance. The key to living with chronic illness is not getting stuck in the first four.

Finding Perfection in the Imperfect

How can a mere mortal presume to stand up to God?  How can an ordinary person pretend to be guiltless? Why, even the moon has its flaws, even the stars aren’t perfect in God’s eyes – Job 25:4-5

Two years ago, when I was diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis, I would never have imagined myself saying the words that came out of my mouth last weekend.

“I am already living my dream, every day!”

I was standing in front of a table at a Christian writers conference, where an author and consultant was doing a prize drawing. All I had to do in order to enter was to write down my “big dream” on the paper covering the table.

I explained that I would have to think on it. As we chatted, I mentioned that I had several chronic illnesses, including RA. The consultant immediately jumped on it.

“Well, I’m sure that’s probably your big dream – to be healed!”

Even to my own surprise, I found myself replying, “Actually, no. That isn’t.”

If you’re a spoonie (someone who suffers from a chronic illness) like me, you’re probably sitting there with a look of disbelief on your face, as you read what I just wrote.

Releasing the Ghosts of the Past

“No, dear brothers and sisters, I have not achieved it, but I focus on this one thing: Forgetting the past and looking forward to what lies ahead.” Philippians 3:13 (NLT)

I hadn’t looked at my high school yearbooks in years. There was no need. That was then. This is now. I had moved on. Or so I thought.

As I reached up into the living room cabinet and took one down, I could feel the memories flooding back. Opening the cover, I could hear the spine crackling, as if the book was an ancient artifact, fragile from years of storage.

I felt a sense of dread come over me. Sure, there were some good times back then, but buried in that book were memories that haunted me right down to the core of my soul. These were not just a few bad moments. These were the kinds of ghosts that I had spent years trying to exorcise from my mind, the kinds that would keep me locked up in a prison of guilt and shame, remorse and regret.

When Tears Begin to Flow

"Jesus wept." - John 11:35

Mothers know what tears are for.

“Whaaaaaa!!!”

That very first cry, in the moments just after a child has been born, says it all.

He’s been pushed out of his comfort zone, out from where it was warm and safe, into an environment he doesn’t recognize. As his lungs fill with air for the very first time, his eyes open to a bright new world, and his body shivers from the cold he’s never felt before. He has struggled to get here, and yet now … now, he’s not sure why.

“Whaaaaaa!!!”

His cry rings out to signal his distress. His fear. His confusion.

Moments later, he finds loving arms to hold him.

“There, there, it’s OK.” 

The words sound soothing. The arms feel secure.

It is OK. Love is here.

Mothers know that tears don’t always mean sadness.

Sometimes they’re from joy.

Sometimes they’re from pain.

Sometimes, they are from just being so tired, so overwhelmed, that you just feel you can’t go on. Or maybe you can go on, but you just need to rest. You need to vent. You need to grieve. Or you just need to breathe…

Tears say “I need.”

From the moment we are born, we need.

We need food. We need clothing and shelter. We need comfort and care when we are hurt.

Above all, we need love.

I was reading another blogger’s post today, in which she shared about the pain and medical procedures she was having to endure as a result of her rheumatoid arthritis (RA) and a rare bone disease. She wrote about an encounter she had with a nurse who asked how she was doing.

"The tears had begun to flow and we just sat there in silence. She understood."

My friend had reached a moment at the hospital where she just couldn’t express what she was feeling in words anymore. She needed to cry. She needed to express the pain, the fear, the grief … all of it. And she needed love and understanding. But there were no words to express all the need that was bottled up inside her. And so, she wept.

As a Christian, it’s easy to talk about “the joy of the Lord” and expect to feel the “peace that passes understanding” even during hard times. And make no mistake, I do my part to try and stay in that joy and peace. I pray. I study my Bible. I meditate on God’s promises. I worship. I fellowship with other believers. All of that helps.

But sometimes…

The tears fall.

A few weeks ago, my mother went into the hospital with pneumonia and within a few days, was put on life support as a last-ditch attempt to save her life.

When they put her on the ventilator, I wept tears filled with sorrow.

When they told me they had removed the breathing tube and she was able to breathe on her own again, I wept tears of joy.

Next week, she will undergo major surgery for a different problem. It is high risk because of her underlying medical conditions.  I know that and so does she. When I wish her well, as they take her off to the operating room, I already know that - no matter how strong my faith - all the love I feel for my mother, the joyful memories of the happy times we have spent together, the hopes and dreams for all I still want to share with her, and the fear of losing her, will well up inside me ... Once again, I will weep.

I am not ashamed of my tears.

Even Jesus wept. He wept when He saw his friend Lazarus, dead. He wept when his other friend, Judas, betrayed Him. He wept when He saw what was to come on the cross. It didn’t matter that He knew the ultimate ending, His glorious resurrection.

When life – and the prospect of death – was overwhelming, Jesus wept. 

Jesus isn’t a weakling. He is strong enough to conquer temptation, sin and death! And yet, here on earth, dressed in mortal flesh, even Jesus needed a good cry sometimes.

When His flesh cried out, “I hurt!” Jesus needed to let out His human emotions and pain, in order to let in the love of the Father and the power of the Holy Spirit.

Jesus’ tears meant the same as ours. His tears said, “I need…” 

Just as Jesus needed the love of the Father and the power of the Holy Spirit to give Him the strength to overcome what He faced - to take him from suffering and death to life again – so we need God to carry us through our trials and our tears.

On any given day, my tears may mean many things. When I’ve been pushed out of my comfort zone, in unfamiliar territory, and I’m scared. I’m confused. I’m overjoyed with happiness. I’m overcome with grief. I’m hungry, angry, lonely or tired. I’m stressed and overwhelmed. When I need comfort, I need shelter, I need rest.

In the end, when I let it all out – when the tears fall from my eyes with an outpouring of unspoken emotion – I will let in the Holy Spirit and find strength again. Whatever I’m going through won’t last forever. This too shall pass. I will fall into God’s loving arms and feel His warm embrace, as He helps me to my feet again.

There, there, it’s OK. Love is here.

When Tears Begin to Flow originally appeared on Spring Sight blog, by Linda W. Perkins. Click here for more posts. Get even more encouragement by following me on Facebook, Pinterest, and Twitter. 

Many of Spring Sight's posts can also be found each week on Crystal Storms' #IntentionalTuesday,  Kelly Balarie's #RaRaLinkUp, Holly Barrett's Testimony Tuesday, Arabah Joy's Grace & Truth, Holley Gerth's Coffee for Your Heart,  and Woman to Woman's Word Filled Wednesday. This week, I am also linking up with Jennifer Dukes Lee. 

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