Perhaps the most painful aspect of chronic illness is the isolation that it causes. I recently had an experience that brought that fact so close to home that the wounds I feel as a result are very, very deep. The odd nature of my disability is isolating. By this I mean that there is not only the pain factor, but also profound exhaution which prevents me from experiencing fellowship. I have very few opportunities to socialize with other women. Shopping trips, luncheons, gatherings, retreats, are all beyond what my body can do, especially if they are at night. What makes it worse is that I don't look sick, so I fear that other people may interpret my absence as lack of interest or desire for relationships. The opposite is true. I especially miss the special beauty that fellowship among
women provides. Not only do I miss it, I crave it.
There was an opportunity to participate in a ministry that I felt passionate about. I was familiar with the unique content. I had been journeying a very long time with the related issues. But I was journeying alone. I wanted so much to travel this leg of the journey with friends. I was sure the Lord provided this ministry just for me, since it encompassed precisely the type of growth and healing I have been experiencing over recent years. When I learned of it, I was so excited. There was only one problem. It was at night. But I wanted to take part, so I took a step out in faith and decided to sign up anyway. I would trust that the Lord would work it out. But what happened next disappointed me. Not only did I not feel well enough to go, but I experienced one of the worst flareups of symptoms I have had, and it lasted long enough that I missed the beginning of this ministry. When I finally could see myself clear (it feels to me sort of like waking up out of a coma), I looked forward to then joining the ministry, but found out that it was closed. The intensity of my reaction surprised me. I was crushed, brokenhearted. I cried for days. The impact that my disability has on my life hit me hard. The illness was directly responsible for me missing out on an opportunity to form relationships, and to glorify the Lord by sharing with this particular group how He has worked in my life, along with offering support and encouragement to those attending. Not to mention that I needed to be ministered to. Why would God let this happen? Why would He make available the exact ministry I needed at this exact time in my life, and then not let me participate? How can a door to healing and fellowship be closed? I don't know. All I do know is that it hurts.
Often when we are hurt deeply, we take a self-protective stance. We react in ways that attempt to ensure we will never be hurt like that again. These wounds often begin in childhood, and in our minds we confirm them over and over even into adulthood (one of the Enemy's favorite tactics). Thus my feelings of not being "good enough" surfaced. I played over and over in my head messages like, "There must be something wrong with me. Why couldn't I just be strong enough to overcome the illness to join the group in time? I don't really matter to them." My tendency toward self protection against the pain of these thoughts was to want to lash out. I was angry. I wanted to yell, "What do you MEAN I can't come?" Additionally, I have moments of self protective thoughts like, "I'm done with ministries. If they don't want me, they won't get me. I'll just withdraw (emotionally as well as physically). Then I don't have to feel the pain of rejection again."
My challenge right now is to remember that to withdraw, to lash out, to put up a self protective wall would be exactly what the Enemy would have me do. Because where there are walls, there cannot be love. I have learned this through a very long journey of hurt and healing. That's why it was so important to me to share in this ministry. I do not understand why events played out the way they did,
but I trust the Holy Spirit will reveal to me in time what my role and responsibility is in this. He always does.
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