endurance – Page 16 – Jesus is for the Wounded

No matter what happens from here, I must rejoice: there’s dirt under my fingernails!

Yes, in the middle of this wretched illness, with many projects on hold, the sun shone and there was a break in the noxious symptoms plaguing my life. So what did I do? I got outside and played in the dirt, that’s what!

Harvested the overgrown swiss chard.

Planted the tomato salsa coneflower I bought from a local nursery last week.

Watered!

Cut back a few perennials that the dead flowerheads were spreading their seeds where I did not want them to go.

Cleaned up the dead stalks of the daylilies in the front beds.

Harvested a few radishes and 3 monster carrots.

Tidied up a bit here and there.

Started the conversion of a raised bed into a massive mulch pile for the winter.

Finally trimmed a dead branch from one of the three variegated dogwood bushes.

Cleaned up the grass overgrowth from one of the two trees leftover from my Spring clean-up. Mulched.

Played with my garden dog, very happy to be out and about with me in the yard. Oh pups. You da best.

Now why would I detail every aspect of these precious 2 1/2 hours? Because I would rather work in my garden than do just about anything. It grieved me terribly to waste a beautiful afternoon on Tuesday when I was a few minutes from going outside and my symptoms tanked instead. The ordeal ended Wednesday morning. And so my frustration has continued for two years, with what has become the “endurance race” of recovery from Lyme disease and mold illness. The best coping strategy is to make no plans, hope for a little something, and rejoice when at least I get some decent sleep no matter what time of day it comes.

Then when you can go out and get some dirt under your fingernails, TELL THE WORLD!!! Oh and water soaked my right gym shoe too. And my knee pads (essential over age 50 you know) are encrusted with mud. Ain’t it great?

Hang in there, Gentle Readers. Sometimes something good happens when you least expect it. :J

Psalm 121

I will lift up my eyes to the hills— From whence comes my help? ²My help comes from the Lord, Who made heaven and earth.

³He will not allow your foot to be moved; He who keeps you will not slumber. ⁴Behold, He who keeps Israel Shall neither slumber nor sleep.

⁵The Lord is your keeper; The Lord is your shade at your right hand. ⁶The sun shall not strike you by day, Nor the moon by night.

⁷The Lord shall preserve you from all evil; He shall preserve your soul. ⁸The Lord shall preserve your going out and your coming in From this time forth, and even forevermore.

I’ve heard this called the bedtime psalm. Sure beats the one I grew up with:

Now I lay me down to sleep

I pray the Lord my soul to keep.

If I die before I wake,

I pray the Lord my soul to take.

The childhood prayer above offers me no comfort during a night like last night. If the worst outcome of 15 or so total hours of noxious symptoms last evening and overnight were to repeat itself, I would need the truth of God’s word on my mind and in my heart. Some wishful rhyme uttered as a “prayer” has only the fleeting power of a feel-good sentiment. It wouldn’t refresh my husband enough either to feed me or carry me to the bathroom again. Only God’s word has the power to transform our fragile lives, and I know He will transform mine someday. I know he sustains my beloved with supernatural strength. Only God’s word provides sustaining grace for all who suffer, for when sleep will not come.

This afternoon I must somehow get to 2 medical appointments despite the lethargy, pain, sweats, stiffness, low grade neck headache, ringing in my ears, and so on.

Oh Lord, I do hope these trials end soon! Maybe I can nap later this afternoon? Yawn.