Room With A View
It is 11:35am on a Sunday morning and I’m still in bed, missing church again for the fourth Sunday. I’ve been in a lot of pain recently. But this is not a “pity me” story. I want to tell you about my view.
For the past 25 years, I’ve lived with stage four Endometriosis which is a chronic illness causing internal abdominal bleeding and scar tissue that spider-webs all the organs together. Each season has a different story, some times have been easier than others. Currently, it appears that the adhesions/scar tissue are affecting my intestines now and causing pain. A colonoscopy three weeks ago to take some biopsies has increased my pain to such a degree that I’ve been at home in bed or on the couch, unable to be upright for more than 15 minutes. I’m hoping for a surgery soon to relieve some of this pain. For now, pain killers, heating pad, rest, help from my husband, routine and distractions are helping me manage. So I’m okay. (Mom, if you’re reading, don’t worry. :))
Because I’ve been at this for a long time now, I have some coping skills that I didn’t have at the beginning. So as soon as pain begins to escalate, I know how to clear my calendar and expectations so that life aligns with the pain that exists. I’ve learned how to ask for help, how to say no to invitations, how to pace myself and take care of the pain. But it is not easy so I reach for perspective.
Mary DeMuth in her book Everything writes “God’s heart in Jeremiah’s famous verse is not that we escape our lot, but that we learn to thrive in the midst of it. Jesus uttered this same truth: “I have told you all this so that you may have peace in me. Here on earth you will have many trials and sorrows. But take heart, because I have overcome the world” (John 16:33). He is our future, our hope. He is the place we go when this heavy world presses in. He enables us to grasp that elusive resilience. He doesn’t remove us from pain. He uses the pain in our lives to discipline us, to make us ready to love him more and bring more folks to his footstool. This world in which we rejoice, cry, worry, love, hope and fear is a passing shadow. And we learn the art of resilience in the midst of it, with dirtied hands and worn-out feet. God doesn’t remove; He brings us through. Exile burns a sustainable resilience into us. The kind of resilience where we learn to be faithful in little and do unnoticed things without complaint.” (p. 60)
Sustainable resilience.
For me, that means having the right view, looking at the right things the right way and that is something that God has done in my heart.
This is my view this morning. A snap shot from my bed as I write. When I wake up, morning sunlight comes through our window, a basket of not-yet-folded laundry sits on my desk but it doesn’t need to disappear for me to feel restful. There is a painting my husband did for me of a dream that I had that was very meaningful, a small paper to the right of the painting that is my perspective for the past year. I read it every night when I’m brushing my teeth before bed. There’s a small marble Inukshuk that I found in a thrift store that traditionally the Inuit used as a directional aid to communicate with others, essentially “walk this way”. I keep it to remind myself to continue on the path that God is calling me to. Behind it is the first note my husband gave me when I was 10 years old, two walking sticks our sons gave to my husband when they were young and an old country kitchen cabinet that now holds our linen. Throughout the rest of our home are small reminders, little images or carefully chosen pieces of furniture or blankets that represent meaning, purpose and a view. All these things are in place. Routines and habits and visual reminders of the simple and focused life that God has called me to live in the midst of pain that never really goes away. God has enabled me to be content, in our cozy home, moving from the bed to the couch to the kitchen back to the couch. A small world, for now. But I feel joy, peace, creativity and a sense that this time is for something, for reasons that I can’t see. I read this morning from Mary DeMuth’s book, “It’s a humble reminder that we are poor judges of impact. We simply entrust our lives and words to God and let Him use them as He pleases, often in secret.”
I said yesterday to my husband, “My world is so small right now–inside these four walls.” He joked, “Are you really missing that much?” So today, as it is now 1pm, and I’m still in bed, I’m grateful. God has given me contentment, joy, peace, and a set of coping muscles that enable me to thrive within this pain, to do what I need to do each day to not just cope, but thrive. I am thriving because of God’s love and presence with me. That’s a pretty good place to be!
I googled “room with a view” this morning, and one definition said, “A room with a view means a life that is free and open to adventure and possibility, one that is not too closely confined by the strictures of society.” Or as Paul wrote to the Corinthians, “I can’t tell you how much I long for you to enter this wide-open, spacious life. We didn’t fence you in. The smallness you feel comes from within you. Your lives aren’t small, but you’re living them in a small way. I’m speaking as plainly as I can and with great affection. Open up your lives. Live openly and expansively!”
Have a great month of December friends!!