a letter to Wonderful You

Dear You,

Beautiful. Precious. Marvelous you.

*Image available for sale on Etsy 

Yes, I mean you. The one who's using a smile to mask the pain you're in these days. Something has you feeling so overwhelmed and you're afraid this torment is just never going to end. The only reason you smile is because you don't want the world to see you crying. “Never let ‘em see you cry” is your motto.

I see you, Friend. I see you there putting on a happy face and trying to fool the world. I see the real you, the one behind the forced smile, the one who doesn't feel like smiling at all. I see the tears pooling in your eyes, the ones you're fighting so hard to keep from falling. I see you standing so tall and proud, appearing unaffected to those who don't really see you. And I see the hurt that comes when those same eyes look over you, around you, beyond you but never at you like you need them to.

There's a plea for help in every, "I'm fine" that you mutter. There's so much pain behind your forced laughter. And every sigh that passes through your lips has a silent scream nestled inside. 

Getting up each morning is a struggle because you're not certain you're strong enough to get through another day. Life doesn't stop because of your heartache though so you face this new day with your mask firmly in place before stepping out into the world. This is a burden you bear alone, nobody else is allowed behind your shield of fake happiness. Only when you're by yourself do you let down your guard. It’s only when there is no chance of discovery that you finally let yourself feel. You've cried so many tears it seems you should've run out of liquid by now but somehow your body still keeps leaking more...

Sound familiar to you? Perhaps you’re the you I’m writing this letter to. And maybe you’re now wondering how I know these things. The answer is simple: I see myself in your haunted eyes. The image in your iris is a reflection of a girl I used to see daily in the mirror. You think I’ve just described you, when the truth is I really just described myself.

I used to feel so alone in my heartache. While there were people who knew what was going on, there were still things I wasn’t telling anyone. Pain I was feeling that I was trying to protect others from. Because when I hurt, the ones who love me hurt too. I was trying to shield them as much as I could. 

And God, He felt so far away. I still believed the Truth that says He’s always with me, always near, but I couldn’t feel Him. There were days it felt like Heaven had closed it’s ears, that my prayers were just bouncing off the sky. My faith felt so little, so weak. As if one more bad thing happening would cause me to lose my grip. I clung tightly to Him, praying He’d hold tight to me too if my grip should start to slip.

The enemy of my soul was on the war path. He had a mission: destroy me. Separate me from God. Do whatever he could to cause me to turn away from my Abba. Because he wants to derail God’s plan from unfolding in the lives of God’s children. He doesn’t want us walking in our God-given destinies. He doesn’t want us to fulfill the purposes and tasks God has set before us. So he attacks us, waging war on our minds and bodies, looking for any little crack where he can slip in and start releasing his filth into our lives.

“For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places.” (Ephesians 6:12)

They say hindsight is 20/20 and I’m inclined to believe them {whoever they are…?} Because while I was going through that bleak time in my life, I couldn’t see God in the midst of the struggle, but now that I’ve moved beyond it, I can look back and see His presence all over it. His light was piercing the darkness, despite my mind’s eye being blind to it happening.

A shaft of light shone in every time Momma wrapped me in a hug.

God whispered He loved me each time the phrase left my dad’s lips.

He was there in a stranger’s smile, in my horses’ happy neighs of greeting.

The random texts from friends that offered encouragement and prayers.

Each time my sister sacrificed her time alone to be with me instead.

He moved through my brother’s actions, him being Jesus with skin on (as my pastor likes to say.)

He comforted me in my snuggles with my dogs.

He used the mundane, the ordinary, the every-day moments. He didn’t answer my prayers in one big obvious way, but rather in a thousand little hidden ones. Heaven’s ears were never closed to me. He was moving and working on my behalf the whole time.

Darling One, He’s doing the same for you. You may not be able to see it now, but He’s got great things in store for you. You’ve been toiling and fighting so long, trying to get where you need to be. Maybe the fight’s been going on so long that you’ve given up and let go of faith. Maybe you’ve bought into the enemies lies that God’s given up and let go of you. Or perhaps you’ve never even spoken to Jesus before, but you’ve begun to feel a desire to. 

Do you know what one of my favorite things about Jesus is? It’s that He meets us right where we are. All we have to do is call on His name and He is there. There is no journey to get there, no list of tests we must first pass. We don’t have to qualify or prove we’re good enough. He wants us. He wants you, the you you are right.this.minute. He loves us. He loves you. You. Exactly as you are.

My husband’s working on different home projects while I write this post. He has music playing out in the kitchen and David Crowder’s song, “Come As You Are” just came on. How fitting these lyrics for this post…

Come out of sadness

From wherever you’ve been

Come broken hearted

Let rescue begin

Come find your mercy

Oh sinner, come kneel

Earth has no sorrow

That heaven can’t heal

Life may be hard right now and you may be struggling to see the light. It may feel like there’s no end in sight, but I want you to know something, Lovely One - there is hope. He is Hope.

That Hope is available to you. Along with His peace that passes all understanding, His joy that holds true despite life’s sorrows. He has so much He wants to give you. All you have to do is reach out and grab hold.

Tell me, Friend… what have you got to lose?

*Photo found on Pinterest

[[[If you’ve never met Jesus before, I encourage you to look up the “Roman Road to Salvation”. It’s a compilation of Scriptures that walk you through the journey of surrendering to Him. If after reading it you still have questions, please don’t hesitate to contact me. I’d love to help you if I can.]]]

[a c k n o w l e d g e d]

I received the call while I was cleaning stalls on April 1st. It was a call I had been expecting, one I'd been waiting for. It was my doctor's office calling to give me my latest test results. 

"I have your results here and I just wanted to let you know that everything came back normal. It looks good…. everything's fine."

By the tone of her voice I could tell she believed she was delivering good news. I put a smile in my own voice and quietly thanked her. After hanging up, I sank down into the hay trough  and gave freedom to the tears that had accumulated behind my lids.

Maybe to a healthy person, someone who's rarely sick and who had these tests done due to abnormal pain, this phone call would've been very welcome. To them the news probably would've brought relief. They're fine, it's nothing serious, this is going to heal and pass and they can return to life pain-free. Nothing to worry about, everything's good.

To me the call was devastating. The news this woman was passing on to me was not good, but rather disheartening. I didn't have the tests done due to abnormal pain, I had them done due to daily pain. Even while she was telling me that it was all fine, my body was in pain and letting me know that it, in fact, was not fine. With a few sentences, I felt as though I'd been emotionally and mentally beaten up. 

I've been sick my whole life. I'm twenty-five years old and I have no idea what it's like to be healthy, to live an illness free life. My days are filled with pain that the doctor's can't figure out. My body has attacks that have no explanation. I have no diagnosis and so far I have no earthly cure.

For a healthy person and a person living with a chronic illness, this news causes vastly different reactions. For the healthy ones it's probably comforting news. The doctors could prescribe them some medicine to help with the problem and in a few days/weeks they'll be back to normal. They can look ahead and see an end to the pain. This is a good thing!

For those like myself, though, it's the opposite. The words tell us that the medical professionals still have no idea what's wrong, on paper we appear healthy. Being told everything came back normal is like a blow because we know that's not the case - what’s happening in our bodies isn’t normal. 

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*Photo found on Pinterest

I’ve been feeling the itch to write again, having that desire to type words onto my screen and see where they take me. Ideas are swirling in my head, memories are surfacing of things I could blog about. There’s so much brewing in my mind, so many posts being mentally written… yet, today, none of them felt right. I couldn’t get the jumble to separate enough for me to get a clear idea on a certain topic, which was frustrating. So I prayed, “God, what would You have me write about?” 

Then, in hopes of getting some inspiration, I started going through my “blog drafts” file. The one that’s full of posts I’ve started, things I’ve written that haven’t yet come to fruition. I was hoping it’d spark an idea, highlight a specific path for me to wander down.

It did.

What you read above is one of those unfinished posts. If you noticed, I said I was twenty-five. I’m now twenty-seven. And yet… I could’ve written those very same words yesterday. Two years later and my chronic illness still remains. The tests keep saying the same thing which means the ladies on the phone also keep passing on the same message. “The tests came back normal. Your levels all look good. You’re fine.”

It can get pretty discouraging at times. Having my body constantly screaming one thing at me while the tests all tell the doctors something entirely different can take its toll. What’s even more disheartening though is when those doctors start to believe their tests more than me and refuse to look any further. The pathway may be altered, but the destination is the same - a search for a new doctor who will {hopefully} believe me.

You see, after a while, most doctors tend to believe I’m making it all up. That I’m just seeking attention or saying it’s worse than it really is. Most. Not all of them, but most. I’ve been sent for psych evals to determine whether I’m doing all this to myself, sent to a specialist to have them decide whether I have an eating disorder or not. After talking with me and having me answer their many questions, they tell me they’re not really sure why I’m there to see them. I just shrug and say, “Me neither.” 

When I began to refuse to just take whatever drugs the doctors wanted to try me on, they in turn started informing me they could no longer help me. When I started telling them I want to know what’s wrong with me and fix it, not just take random medicine to cover it up (medicine that makes it worse, not better) they grew annoyed with me. One doctor told me that eventually I’m going to have to just accept the diagnosis they’re giving me and let it go, even though the diagnosis he spoke of was “we-can’t-figure-out-what’s-wrong-with-you-so-we’re-just-calling-it-this”. He then went on to tell my mom that if I was his daughter, he wouldn’t continue to put me through all these tests. He’d accept what the tests are saying and move on. I’m fairly certain her reply was something along the lines of, “Then thank God she’s not your daughter.” My momma, my champion <3

To my fellow compatriots in this unkind land known as Chronic Illness, I feel your pain. To those of you who struggle daily yet have no diagnosis, I understand your frustrations. To the ones who feel like your sickness gets downplayed or even overlooked because it has no official title, my heart shares that hurt. To the people who’ve been made to feel as if their pain doesn’t matter, I want you to know that it does.

There have been moments in this fight with my illness where I’ve felt inferior to those who have a diagnosis. When people ask what’s wrong with me, my reply of, “I have a chronic illness” is so frustrating to me. I want the title that will tell them what I’m struggling with. I want the diagnosis that gives them a glimpse into my daily fight. Being able to only call it a chronic illness feels like I’m just constantly telling people I have a stomach ache, as if I ate too many jelly beans and it will pass.

People who have their diagnosis, the ones whose sickness has a name, used to intimidate me. Their disease is recognized, their fight known. Their illness had primacy in my eyes. My pain simply didn’t measure up to theirs.

You may be wondering by now why I’m sharing all this with you. Several years ago I read John Bevere’s, “Honor’s Reward” and it changed something in my heart. It awoke a need in me to honor the people in my life. It brought to life a desire to make sure that people know when they’ve made an impact on me. Everything I’ve shared with you so far was to get me to this point - the place of extending honor to a man whose words touched my heart in a very deep way.

Dear Mr. You,

We prayed for you in church that morning. The pastors had you and two other gentleman in need of healing come forward for prayer. As a church family, we extended our hands and lifted up our voices on your behalf.

I know about your illness. I’ve received the email updates on your progress. You’re highlighted to us as one to continue to lift up in prayer for your healing. You’ve been called upon to share about your fight with your illness, about what God’s revealed to your heart throughout this journey. Despite the disease that’s wreaked it’s havoc on your body, you’ve stood in front of us and proclaimed that God is good and He is faithful. I’m aware of your illness, your treatments, your fight.

I had no idea you were aware of mine. 

The prayer ended. The children went off to Kids Ministry Zone. Greeting time came. You walked straight towards me, reached for my hand, and said, “You should’ve been up there.” At first I had no idea what you were talking about. I just smiled and kind of chuckled. But then it hit me.

You, a man who has his diagnosis and whose disease is recognized - you were acknowledging my illness. By uttering those five words to me, you were placing us on the same level. In so few words you let me know that you don’t place my struggle beneath your own. In your own way, you gave recognition and voice to your belief that I had a place up there alongside those battling cancer and other serious things.

Mr. You, your words haven’t left my mind. For that whole week following, I couldn’t get them out of my head. First I was astonished, then I was humbled. My heart was filled with such warmth, all because you acknowledged my pain. Your words haven’t stopped resonating within me. Thank you. A million times, thank you. I am so grateful to you for walking over to me on that Sunday morning. It’s a moment I won’t forget.

Because in your words, God had tucked a message for my soul. Through your voice, I know my Father spoke. The same words my ears heard from your lips, my heart heard from my Abba’s.

God sees my pain. He sees the struggle, He knows my frustrations. He hears my hearts cry, He catches every tear. God sees my pain. And He acknowledges it.

My pain is not inferior in His eyes. My struggle and fight are no less important to Him. My lack of a diagnosis doesn’t hold any sway over Him. He created me, He knit me together in Momma’s womb. He knows me inside and out, He’s counted the very numbers of hair on my head. There is no moment where I walk this journey alone, for He is with me. Always with me. 

What a glorious comfort there is in being reminded of that Truth. Such a sweet peace...

For those of you who are facing a fight with illness, God sees your pain. For those who are struggling to keep your marriages afloat, God sees your hurt. For those who are working yourselves ragged to provide for your families, God sees your struggle. For those fighting despair because you’re without an income, God sees your need. 

Friends, I don’t know what it is you may be facing in this season of life, but He does. He sees, He knows. And He acknowledges it. You are never in the fight alone. For He is with you. Always with you.

I pray reading that Truth ushers in a renewal of your spirit, Dear Ones. May you inhale His peace and exhale His joy, inhale His love for you and exhale His delight in you. May you be reminded of the undeniable Truth that He is good and He is faithful. May you be able to shut out the voices of your circumstances and listen closely to the beautiful voice of the One Who knows you by name. Child, you are His <3

*Photo found on Pinterest

“Fear not, for I am with you;

Be not dismayed, for I am your God.

I will strengthen you and I will help you.

I will uphold you with My victorious right hand.” (Isaiah 41:10)