Fibromyalgia
I don’t know what you know about fibromyalgia, but whatever it is, whatever causes it, my wife suffers terribly from it. Over the last several years it has robbed my wife of her ability to enjoy many things in life that we take for granted, like sitting, sleeping, getting dressed, washing one’s hair, or even being hugged.
So many people doubt fibromyalgia is real. They say that if it was a legitimate illness, then there would be clearly identifiable symptoms, specific medications or treatments that would work, and even a Jerry Lewis-like celebrity raising money for research. Unfortunately, the only real constant for my wife is pain, and all that comes with never getting relief.
Putting on a brave face is a daily occurrence. My wife was always the hard worker, the entrepreneur, and the aggravating “early riser” who would wake everyone else in the house with, “Thank you, Lord, for this fine day!” Now, her smile is for the encouragement of others who look to her as a pastor’s wife; but her family knows the truth: she spends much of her time in tears.
We have tried doctor after doctor, from local clinics to Vanderbilt. Tests of every kind have been run, yet all are inconclusive. The only diagnosis is fibromyalgia – and there is no cure. She has her better days, and her really bad days, but rarely are there good days. It would seem that this is a burden which we are destined to bear, that is, until God sees fit to lift it.
After a particular troubling doctor visit today, one who made all kinds of false assumptions and accusations, my dear wife decided she couldn’t handle much more. She wept. That is when I wrote the following poem.
Give Us Strength
I tend to wonder
About what I know
Or at least what I think I know
About pain, about grief
About the reason for no sleep
I tend to wonder
I tend to ask
The usual “whys?”
And I guess I know the “why”
But I doubt at times
When there’s no reason or rhyme
I tend to ask
I know the truth
But I tend to wonder
About the load she’s under
The pain without an end
I ask for answers, even when
I know the Truth
Give me strength
But give her more
Dry her tears; make mine pour
On my shoulders place her sorrow
And for the joy again tomorrow
Give us strength
Pray for Us
I try to be funny on this blog. There are times I get angry, too. But right now I really want to ask all of you who pray to intercede for my wife, Valerie. Pray for her healing. Pray that I will know how to better encourage her. But pray, most of all, that through all that we endure God will receive the glory.
As both of us cry together and wonder why she has to go through this, I am reminded of our Savior who also cried in the garden and said: “Father, if it be your will, let this cup pass from me.” Our prayer is that this will pass.
But, Jesus also said, “Nevertheless, not my will, but Thine be done.” (Luke 22:42) Whatever tomorrow holds, to God be the glory!
“And he said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness. Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me.” – 2 Corinthians 12:9 KJV
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- Explaining Fibromyalgia To Others (stuartotwaysmith.wordpress.com)
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