Skip to main content

When Hope is a Four Letter Word.

It's always the little things that send me over the edge or down the deep dark hole. I work so hard to make sense out of my world and keep my little silver ball in play that when a little anomaly blips on my radar my response is to flip wildly through my emotions and tilt out. Game Over.

Today I had a doctor's evaluation for a disability claim. I have degenerative disc disease in my cervical spine, bulging discs and osteophytes or bone spurs. I am in pain 24/7. So, why did the doctor evaluating me ask me to do squats? I feel a denial letter and an appeal in my future. I don't have the strength for either. Don't worry about tomorrow, right? It will take care of itself? Right? So why are so many tomorrows dog piling on my today and making me miserable?

I am working up to a full blown crying fit. Is it the pain? Is it the medication for the pain? Is it the pernicious anemia? Is it my faithless heart? Is it a wicked cocktail of all that and more? Probably. Is there anything I can do about any of it? Probably not. Oh sure, tell me "Just have faith!" so I can feel like there is one more thing I am doing wrong.

How about we top off the day with a little reading about the value of being a wife and a mother so I can have a little salt thrown into some fresh wounds? Maybe a good cry will get the poison out, maybe. Who knows? I am afraid to hope.

Proverbs 13:12
12 Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but desire fulfilled is a tree of life.
(NAS)
Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Spiritual Aphasia aka Senseless Theology

I was recently asked why I read theology and follow theological debates. "It's all just words and opinions." Words. Words on a paper, words on a blog. Words that travel invisibly through our airwaves and our minds. What would our inner monologue consist of without words? Harsh words, gentle words, untrue words, and solid you-can-die-behind them words. They have secret lives in the depths of our souls. They overflow in torrents of grief and joy. They seep out of our character flaws, wearing down the weak convictions that hold them back until they contaminate all those around us. All of us are stained within and without by the raw sewage of unkind words. Our souls are in jeopardy for want of The Word. Jesus Christ. The Gospel. The Good News. Words matter. Doctrine matters. Theology Matters. What you win them with is what you win them to. I study theology because I was lost too long in a world that scrambles truth with its own ideas and preferences. I was fed a diet of tosse
1 comment
Read more

Super Church a song for the Emergent-sy

In the early 70s I was in a youth choir at my church. Our youth pastor was a musician and his way of connecting with us as a group was through the choir and music. Somehow there was an affiliation between him and The Continental Singers, New Hope and Jeremiah People. He was worked with Moishe Rosen of Jews for Jesus too, I think. Are any of these names familiar to you? Though I remember the church fondly I was a profoundly lost and troubled young woman during my years there. That and time have muddled the memories quite a bit. Today I was digging through some old paperwork and one of the books to the musical we did. It's Getting Late For the Great Planet Earth, a folk rock oratorio by Cam Floria. Yes, that's right. Cam Floria put Hal Lindsey to music. There's a lot to laugh about and some to groan about but as I was looking through the songs and remembering, I found this little ditty and I only wish I could sing it for you. Just remember that this is circa 1972 and even th
8 comments
Read more

What if.....

...what if I just need a place to let some words spill out? What if they spill out in bouquets of bright colors and pleasing scents but their frames are made of snakes and lies? Will you the reader be able to tell? Will it matter? When words smell like lilacs and honeysuckle do you care what lies beneath them? Perfumed syllables cover the stench of hope's decay. A violet or two will fool most surface dwellers, allowing them to pass by quickly and unaware.  Is that what words are supposed to do? What if my aesthetics with words are similar to Morticia Addams' with flowers?  What happens when luscious blooms are discarded?  When the ragged silhouette of thorns is all that remains will you still see the beauty?  Perhaps we'll find out.
Post a Comment
Read more