The Meaning of Life's Struggles

"Because of the Lord's great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail." - Lamentations 3:22 (NIV)
"Then maidens will dance and be glad, young men and old as well. I will turn their mourning into gladness; I will give them comfort and joy instead of sorrow." - Jeremiah 31:13 (NIV)

I used to think God gave us certain challenges repeatedly until we learned our lesson from them. Then they would stop and we could move on to new challenges. After decades of increasingly occurring migraines, I know that line of reasoning to be flawed. It is impossible in the throes of such blinding pain to think anything besides, "Dear Lord, I think my brains are going to explode out of my mouth unless You help me."

Occasionally, my prayer is answered by my medicine lulling me to sleep rapidly. A few times the response has been gastric pyrotechnics which I hope have not included any of my nervous system. More often, like today, I am left to feel the medicine has not done its job, is giving me concerning side effects that mean my neurologist will be searching via trial and error through several more treatments, and I continue to feel sick.

I have to focus on other things to keep from going out of my mind with the pain. The distraction technique has its merits when used correctly. I can pray, meditate, study scripture or philosophy, read uplifting books, watch positive movies or shows, work on one of my crafts or try to write if I can focus enough like now. Sometimes, though, the distractions are more a pity party, wherein lies the danger.

I have to be mindful that, ever since a bad head injury as a child, I have a tendency to become depressed easily by certain circumstances or influences. This has been a difficult year for me and the last several weeks have been discouraging in a way I never would have expected. I noticed the last few days a definite decrease in my amount of willingness to participate in activities that usually matter a great deal to me, whether because I'm passionate about them or love people who need me to care. This is a wake up call to me that I am headed toward a depressive episode.

I had hoped to turn that around today by getting physically and mentally active again. But I awoke this morning with this migraine. For those who have never suffered the pain of a full-blown migraine headache, I will attempt to describe the sensation.

Have you ever had a finger hammered or slammed in a door so hard that it turned four different colors within an hour after and maybe bled a little and you weren't sure if you would need a splint and whether you would lose the nail permanently? Imagine feeling like that has been done to the back of you eyeballs and the bundle of nerves between your neck and skull. But the pain will not subside for twelve hours, a full day, three days or maybe a week. You might vomit from how bad the pain is. Light feels like knitting needles stabbing through your eyes, stirring shards of broken glass around inside your brain, and stabbing out the back of your skull. Noise does not cause migraines; different patients have different reactions to different noises at different times. I sometimes can't stand any noise at all; other times rhythmic bass actually distracts me from the pounding of my own pulse in my head, so soothes me.

From facing this torture more often as the years go by, along with my other infirmities, I have adopted another philosophy. We often don't appreciate blessings in life to their very fullest extent unless we have faced suffering. I certainly don't take fleeting moments of joy with my family for granted anymore.

WHAT KIND OF DEAL IS THIS?

As you know, we consider blessed those who have persevered. You have heard of Job’s perseverance and have seen what the Lord finally brought about. The Lord is full of compassion and mercy. – James 5:11 (NIV)

In the words of my late step dad (who had diabetes), "What kind of deal is this?" He'd say that about his feet. Because of neuropathy he couldn't feel them enough to be sure where he was placing them when he walked, so he had to watch them in tricky places, but every step hurt anyway!

The hand I was dealt? The rheumatologist who diagnosed me at 38 estimated from my medical history that I've suffered since my single digits from Fibromyalgia (now in the neuroimmunological class). It hurt my extremities when cold from as young as I can remember. It began destroying my eyes slowly at 8; by the time I was 10 I could see a foot without my lenses; by 14, 6 inches; a few years ago I needed bifocals; each year since we increase the prescription. I can only digest bland foods. If I breathe certain particles (like perfumes) harmless to others, I have asthma attacks and may develop pulmonary infections. I have to be careful what touches my skin or I may not just have a local reaction, but absorb certain things into my blood stream that cause asthma attacks. Now at times for no apparent reason my flesh will experience pain that feels like second degree burns or the stabbing of an ice pick. Four of my five senses were destroyed or under attack by this disease. But I thought, "Fine, I still have my perfect appreciation of my hearing, ma joie de la musique de la vive, to comfort me."

The past few years, I noticed difficulty hearing one person talk to me in background noise, but doctors assured me it was just my ADHD influencing my concentration; then my ability to hear voices over electronic devices rapidly decreased and my mid-range tones (which I rely on as an alto and tenor singer) were disappearing over the last year or two. I was in complete denial because I was terrified to acknowledge it.

I screwed up my nerve though and had Beltone do their extensive free hearing test two days ago. We discovered I've lost half the hearing in one ear, and in the ear that used to be my stronger one I've lost almost all sound. The hearing aids they let me try were like heaven to my ears if you will pardon the cliché. I don’t remember hearing that well as a child.

The fall from grace? The insurance that covers military retirees will pay nothing for hearing aids. Beltone tries to be helpful by offering veteran's families a 25% discount, but that still brings the pair I need for my advanced case of unusual hearing loss to $5000.

My husband could not figure out the crushed look on my face as I walked in the door of our home which is in need of some major improvements. It is where we live with our two daughters who accrue for us almost as many doctors’ bills as me. The oldest is struggling to make ends meet on a car payment and college tuition. The youngest will be going to college in a year and a half to major in music theatre and is taking private voice and piano lessons and still needs dance lessons to get her up to speed, plus a reliable used vehicle. Both my husband’s and my cars need repairs before the dog days of Georgia summer arrive. In other words, our budget is stretched exceedingly tight and thin at the moment.

I told my husband, who has been frustrated to distraction this past year by my inability to hear the dog barking outside, the kids calling across the house (which I think is just rude anyway) or understand the mumbling young actors on TV, why I looked so dejected. He tried to cheer me up with cuddling and jokes which usually works pretty well, but this was a heart-rending situation for me. He figured that out quickly enough and promised that he will be working on the taxes this week with the program he picked up last weekend and get us the best breaks possible from Uncle Sam to help me get those hearing aids. The problem is after the couple of years we’ve had with Uncle Sam, I don’t trust him not to steal the shirts off our entire family’s backs, including our retired mothers.

Yesterday I was still feeling depressed, so he said he told me not to worry because if Uncle Sam doesn’t give us an Income Tax Return, we can always just use some of our nest egg instead. This was the most generous thing he could do because that account is supposed to be untouchable until he retires from civilian work. It will then pay off the mortgage so we can stay in this house, or sell it and move to one of the same price in another part of the country, and live debt free in our old age. Pulling out any funds now could risk that dream. It makes me love him more that he would offer it, but it also makes me feel a little guilty that he feels he has to.

I am trying to remember to look to the positive in life, to keep striving for everything that can be achieved. After all, if we give up, we fall into complete chaos, despair and ruin. I tell myself that there are plenty of people out there suffering far worse than I am; I even know a few personally and am praying the Lord helps them out of their predicaments or gives them the courage to face what He is walking them through. I know I must pull myself together if I will be any use to the world as He wants. But some days I just want a tiny break, to feel a little comfort and like something will go right for once to show for all my hard work. Do you know what I mean?

The Lord is always there listening when I go on this way. He knows I am weak, that no matter how optimistic part of me is, there is another part that has been damaged by the curse of this world. He lets me crumple and cry a while, but reminds me He is there to pick me up and dry my eyes and show me something better. Moreover, He promises there will be no more crying, pain, infirmity, dimness of sight, or dullness of either taste or scent in His kingdom, only the joy of life’s music.