Hope Recovers from Pain

No pain – No gain.

heart - sunsetWe repeat this cliché and although we may believe in the truth of its principle, we would rather not experience it.

The reality is – we hate pain. We pray for healing as soon as we discover a lump, an asymmetrical mole or a rash that looks like shingles.

We scream, “It’s unfair, unjust,” when our identities are stolen or when our hearts are broken.

We hate pain. Yet it is also reality that the sharp bite of a vaccination may protect us from disease. The consequences of a broken commandment may drive us to repentance.


We often gain the most through pain.


As we have searched for answers about my son’s mysterious illness, we have considered the role of pain. Certainly, we asked for healing prayer. Many of you responded. Thank you!

Yet even within the uncertainty, I wondered – oh God – are you trying to teach us more about trust? Is there a higher purpose for these questions about my son’s health? How connected are his physical issues with the spiritual?

Last week, Caleb lay on a table while the doctor used acupuncture to relieve the pressure in my son’s brain.

One of the needles hit a painful place and what had been a comfortable treatment suddenly changed into a definite, “Ouch!”

Caleb bravely endured, then later that night, began to experience relief. The next day, he was 75% better and the following day – 100%.

The pain of that one needle insertion evidently made a different. The pain brought gain.

Treatments continue because we want total and lasting relief. We still don’t know the cause and maybe with further treatment, the answer will come.

But we’re moving beyond the uncertainty and into relief.

What have we learned? Again – the value and treasure of prayer. The prayers of you righteous ones who responded have made a difference.

The expertise of a doctor who specializes in natural treatments and listens to how the body works. If you want the name of a doctor who knows his stuff, email me: Rebecca@RJThesman.net.

We have also learned – again – to trust when we see no way out, when we beat our heads against blank walls and puzzled looks from medical professionals who have no answers. We trust in Yahweh Rophe – the divine Healer.

We have been reminded – again – to keep searching but simultaneously keep trusting that God may heal or he may direct us to those who can help. He may let us walk awhile in the pain and the uncertainty so that we will be grateful, trust wholeheartedly and learn patience.

Pain has become gain. Thank you, God.

©2015 RJ Thesman – Author of the Reverend G Books http://www.crossrivermedia.com/portfolio/1624/gallery/fiction/

When Life Unravels

frayed_ropeSince life is so unpredictable, it often unravels. All my carefully constructed plans can fall apart within minutes after the doctor presents his diagnosis, I open an email intended for someone else, or the consultant decides my job is expendable.

What do we do when life unravels? How do we react so that the very essence of our souls doesn’t become undone?

In a recent issue of The Christian Leader, I wrote an article which included these practical tips from Psalm 43, principles I try to follow when life unravels.

Action Point 1: Focus on God instead of the problem.

Psalm 43:1-2, “Vindicate me, O God, and plead my case against an ungodly nation; O deliver me from the deceitful and unjust man! For Thou art the God of my strength; why hast Thou rejected me? Why do I go mourning because of the oppression of the enemy?”

God delivers me from oppression, such as the new level of rejection I face from Mom’s Alzheimer’s. When her memories of me fade, I need someone stronger than I to plead my case and vindicate me.

As I focus on God and his strength, I think more positively and take baby steps toward accepting the next phase of Mom’s illness.

Action Point 2: Focus on the lesson instead of the pain.

Psalm 43:3, “O send out Thy light and Thy truth, let them lead me; let them bring me to Thy holy hill and to Thy dwelling place.”

God’s light and truth lead me through the unraveling yarns of health issues. Even within pain, he brings me to that place of utter peace, that inner holy of holies where I rest in his strength.

As I stay alert for his light and truth, he whispers the phrase of a song or directs me to a passage of scripture. When I focus on the lesson rather than the pain, God teaches me more of what I need to know in my faith journey. His beacon of truth points me to some of the richer treasures of faith and trust.

As I focus on the lesson God wants to teach me, my pain becomes the secondary focus and a bit easier to bear.

Action Point 3: Focus on the future instead of the present.

Psalm 43:5, “Why are you in depair, O my soul? And why are you disturbed within me? Hope in God, for I shall yet praise him, the help of my countenance, and my God.”

King David reminds me to stay in hope. I think of this important principle as, “Living in the Yet.”

To live in the yet, I focus on the future – when this present circumstance wears down, when I work through the grief, when I learn the lesson.

All the unravelings of life, these temporary afflictions, eventually end. Some last longer than others and test my perseverance. Some need extra amounts of God’s power-filled grace. Some are blessedly brief. But all trials eventually end.

As I live in the yet, I praise God that the end will indeed occur and then hopefully, my faith muscles will be stronger, my trust in him deeper.

No matter what unravels next, I’m grateful for Psalm 43 and determined to live in the yet.

©2014 RJ Thesman – “Intermission for Reverend G” – http://amzn.to/1l4oGoo

 

Long Distance Caregiving – Pray

Throughout this series about the LDC, I often alluded to the importance of prayer. Praying_Hands

My personal intercessory team lifts me up in prayer before every trip to Oklahoma.

My siblings know people in their churches, their cell groups and their networks who pray for them.

Certainly, we all pray for Mom. I pray that she won’t have to suffer a long time with Alzheimers and yes—I know what that means. I know that I’m asking God to take her home where she can be with Jesus, with Dad and with her parents.

What’s the point of pretending? Mom is a strong believer. Her faith is intact even if her brain is scrambled. I pray that God will release her to go home.

Every night and sometimes during the daytime hours, I pray for my sister. I’ve seen how her health has been affected. Stress wreaks havoc on our bodies, so I pray for my sister to find relief from the pain, to sleep well and to find the joy of living.

I pray for my brother as he juggles work on the farm along with his other job, his family and the dynamics all of that brings. I pray for him special grace because he works hard, and I ask God to bless him day after day.

Then I pray for me, that I will live with grace, even as the long distance caregiver. I ask God to keep me from trying to find comfort in things of this world or an over-abundance of chocolate.

I pray that as we live through this experience, I’ll be able to write books and blog posts such as this one, to encourage my group on Facebook (http://on.fb.me/15XgKN4), to speak at churches and other groups about how to find hope when life unravels.

Because in the end, Alzheimer’s does not win. What really counts is how we deal with our family dynamics and how we stay close to each other—even when we live far apart.

What matters is how we share what we have learned. Because that is why we are here. To love God, to make a difference and to leave well.

Part of that leaving well is a legacy of wisdom and experience for those who come behind us. To let them know that even within the journey of Alzheimers, prayer is still the best thing we can do.