So much is broken and can’t be fixed.
How do I wrap my head around it? Never like other people. Never to be normal. Never to be able to do what others do, feel the ways others feel, be the way others are. In this life, it’s beyond reach. I’ve arrived at the edge of myself. I’ve discovered the full extent of what God has dealt to me for life.
God, of course, can fix all things. But sometimes He says no. Sometimes he choose to not fix it. That’s so hard to reconcile. This God I need so much, who is my only hope and help, does nothing. Where is His love in this?
His love is in eternity. There, someday, in heaven, Satan and sin and suffering He will do away with forever. I will know with sight what I now take by faith. Jesus shared this walk, this suffering, these momentary hardships. He shared my heart, and my pain touched Him as deeply as it did me. He helped me carry it, after all. I will see the great glory of a God who let evil try to do it’s worst, and he conquered nonetheless. Even more, I’ll see the God who privileged me, who let me be a part of it all, by allowing this suffering in my life. All will by more than recompensed.
“For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal.” (2 Cor 4:17-18)
Someday. There in heaven.
It’s been awhile, huh?
Such is the nature of mental illness, or any chronic illness really.
To most of society, dropping off the map isn’t acceptable. But illness doesn’t care about what society thinks. Plans, hopes, and habits collapse when illness takes hold. Consuming all time, all focus, and all energy, it leaves no room for anything else. Everything becomes bent on the long climb away from illness, back to functional, back to feeling okay. Yet such summits provide no security. I cannot tell when the ground will crumble again. I only know, with illness, it’s a matter of “when,” not “if.” Being off the map is a fact of life; this is our normal, for Mr. B. and I. Sometimes society understands; sometimes it doesn’t.
I’m glad that God doesn’t think anything of being off the map. Sometimes, He takes our lives that way on purpose! Yet, His plans are always good, full of His love for us, on the map or off.