As the weather breathed her warm wind across the prairies and patches of grass could be found at the edges of the road, I realized a hope that had grown in my heart.
Just a few weeks, nay, days ago I felt the weary burden of the overwhelmed with a pit of despair hanging onto the edges of each waking moment. I wanted to feel health’s blessing in my body but it just seemed the more I wanted the less it was available. Laying down my head in another moment of needed rest just frustrated this restless soul. I don’t need to rest again, I would tell myself, but my body was not in agreement.
The last two to three days have had a different feel. Yes, the fatigue, that has become a familiar companion, still hung on like an unwanted houseguest, but it was losing it’s grip, if even just a little. Where I could not have had three full days of activity in a row just a week ago, now there had been three full days of running and I was still standing. I hadn’t needed to lay down in a bone weary way for three days. It was a thrilling moment and I treasured it quietly in my heart.
I feel like there is some good ol’ fashioned Marcy Mojo back and I like it. It’s the first time in the last few months that I have felt a spurt of more than just energy. I’ve had my “good” days, one at a time….about once a month. It was getting downright depressing. who wants just one good day a month?
Even the hubster, today, was saying “You seem more chipper!” which makes my heart leap and fall at the same time. I wish there wasn’t such a noticeable difference…I don’t know if that makes sense…
There seems there’s a place inside of me that is filling with purpose once again. My dreams don’t seem so unrealistic at this point. They are still highly unlikely, but I am dreaming big dreams again and not finding it sad because my body was saying it will never happen. I am slowly biting down on some God-sized pondering and hoping for the things it may entail.
Could it be the diet?
I think it could be a part of it.
I asked for healing.
I have started to wonder about healing and the process of it. Sometimes God instantly heals. People have told me this happens and I believe it because he’s God and created everything. I have friends who have experienced instant and miraculous healing.
I never have. I have pleaded for it, but I’ve never been healed in a moment.
Sometimes God doesn’t heal until heaven, where we are eternally healed from all pain, sorrow and physical pain. I am looking forward to it. Not in a now sort of way, although whatever happens is in God’s hands. I am looking forward to the release from the earthly burden of pain, someday.
Then there are times that God heals over time, through medical means, or nutritional changes or physical activity or through all three.
I believe God is healing me now.
And I believe he wanted me to take an active part.
I was not taking care of myself. I’ve never loved exercise. I found every excuse under the sun to not do it and it sounded so convincing. I’m a busy mom to four, with things always that need doing. I could have found time to do it if I had really wanted to. I mean, the dishes will always be there, the laundry will never be done, and organizing my house (let’s face it) will always be an issue. I could have moved my derrier.
I was not eating thoughtfully. I just grabbed whatever I could to sustain the high energy life that we live and it was not always healthy. In fact, confession is necessary…it was mostly NOT healthy. I fed the kids very healthy meals, but my life reflected poor choices. Vegetables were boring (and still are…sorry) and fruits were not my first pick.
I was ignoring God.
Did I just admit that? I guess so. I had put on the face I have always had. I’m a “good girl” and know what to say, how to act and pretty much look the part of a good Christian wife. I was ignoring my spiritual life though. The Word of God, which is LIFE and BREATH and gives hope and knowledge…and so much more. Well, I was just keeping it visible out of the corner of my eye. Just enough to make me feel guilty about ignoring Him. Spiritually, I wanted to be there, but I had no motivation. I am undisciplined and terrible with friendships (this is a lightbulb for me this year…I’ll get into that another time) and my friendship with God was only one-sided. He was waiting and I was ignoring.
As a result, my anxiety and guilt and whatever (emotional) weapon that could be used to beat me, were being used by the Devil to beat me senseless.
I was being eaten from the inside out. My body has felt the effects of it for a while now. I’ve just been patching it up. A sleeping aid here, a Tylenol there, a stomach med every day…and it wasn’t helping. I knew I needed more.
I needed HIM. So I cried to Him and confessed everything he already knew. I’ve confessed for a couple of months now. This “good girl” isn’t that good. In fact, I’m not good at all apart from Him.
I believe that in taking action in my physical body, through this crazy diet and exercise (which I still need to work on), through purposefully getting closer to Him by reading His words, prayer and confession, and through rest my body is healing, my spirit is soaring again and I think I am headed in the direction I should have taken long ago.
I wish it didn’t need to come to a crisis like what I’ve been in. I haven’t enjoyed it at all. And yet, I needed it. Sadly.
I give all the glory to God, my Redeemer, Savior, Healer and Friend for every step toward health that I can feel and see. I am not where I want and need to be but I am a baby step closer.