Who Has It Worse Than?

For two weeks I’ve been in intense, debilitating pain. A week ago I prayed and told God I’d reached my limit. I begin to pray before doing each and every thing, even attempting to toilet. Four days ago I started crying each night after the children were in bed. Three days ago my husband had to start helping me shower and dress. Two nights ago I became completely overwhelmed and discouraged as I looked around at all the housework that was piling up.

Last night, I asked my husband to hold me. As he snuggled next to me and draped his arm over my side, the pain almost knocked me over. Each breath I took felt as if someone was driving a knife into my lung. I thought if I slowed my breathing….if I took small breaths instead, that I could bear it. But, instead, as much as I wanted the safety, comfort and security I felt wrapped in his arms, I had to ask him to please stop. Silent tears soaked my pillow. Before the night was over, I ended up lying, once again, on the floor to sleep. Sleep though eludes me. Every thing hurts, even my eyeballs. I sleep only when I am overpowered by the exhaustion, and even then I wake often.

 I can not count the times I’ve had to tell Pookie that I couldn’t hold him, cuddle with him, or even let him hug my neck because the pain is to intense. The pantry is getting bare as I haven’t even been able to make my mind work enough to process a grocery list or meal plan. The laundry is piling up, the house getting messy, everything becoming disorganized and behind, despite my attempts to keep it from happening again.

This morning I had a family meeting with the children and explained that I have truly reached the end of my rope. There is hardly anything I can do now. Once again, my children are feeding me and helping me move around. My husband is bathing me and dressing me. I’m having to cancel plans and events because the pain is to much. Once again, I am trapped within my body…….a prisoner confined by pain and fatigue…..the jail my own body.

This morning my 5 year old saw a commercial on television of a child with cleft palate. He asked about it and after explaining, I also explained that the child doesn’t have the money to go to the doctor. His face lit up and he said, “We have money to go to doctors. Let’s give him the money so the doctor can fix him. When he’s all better, I’m going to hold him, and hug him, and play with him!”

Today I thought of a mother whose only been given months to live. I thought of my uncle whose been diagnosed with lung cancer. I thought of my mother who has battled chronic fatigue and other issues since I was a child. I thought of my best friend who died 14 years old from a misdiagnosed brain tumor. I looked at the picture on my mantle of a precious angel taken long before his time at the hands of an abuser. My heart is swollen with the love I feel for all those struggling in this world and I know that not only am I not alone, but that I don’t have it “the worst”.

What is “the worst” you might wonder? Is it the person who dies alone? Is it the person who dies leaving behind children? Is it the children left behind? Is it the parent unable to be a parent who instead have her children caring for her? I could go on and on, yet there is one thing I have learned over and over again. There is only one group of people that really have it the “worst”.

That group is the people who don’t have God to carry them through when all their strength and energy is drained. The people who don’t know that God loves them no matter what has happened in their life. The people who, when they have no human being there for them, they don’t know they can turn to God with their cares and sorrows.