Nelson writes that the pain seems to be getting worse, and like David in the Psalms, he calls out to God for relief. It’s also distressing not to know if “the sickness” has an end-date.
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August 17, 2022
“Lord, do not rebuke me in your anger or discipline me in your wrath. Have mercy on me, Lord, for I am faint; heal me, Lord, for my bones are in agony. My soul is in deep anguish. How long, Lord, how long? Turn, Lord, and deliver me; save me because of your unfailing love. Among the dead no one proclaims your name. Who praises you from the grave? I am worn out from my groaning. All night long I flood my bed with weeping and drench my couch with tears. My eyes grow weak with sorrow; they fail because of all my foes.” (Psalm 6:1-7)
Annso and I are plowing through the Bible for the second time, one chapter at a time, and yesterday we read this one. It couldn’t be more of a true prayer for me right now.
I am up lots of the night with neck pain–some unknown thing that doesn’t go away. I hope it’s not an infection of some kind. Either way, the words of this Psalm spell it out perfectly. How long, Lord?
It seems like forever since I got this sickness and since there was a pain-free day. Every day has the same thing–pain all night and into the morning. The morning is the best once the pain meds kick in, but mostly, they don’t work so good anymore. Then in the afternoon, I get the symptoms back and we do it again.
I pray for relief. “Does anyone praise you from the grave?” That’s a good question. Seems obvious, but David prays it to God as if he doesn’t know.
If I die, what good will that do? If I live on and on with pain day-in and day-out, what good does that do? Is there something I’ve done to deserve this? I guess we’ve all done things to deserve punishment, me for sure, but David’s’ question in another Psalm comes to mind: “Bring not your servant into judgement. No one is righteous before you…” or something to that effect.
If we are judged on earth with sickness in payment for our sins, life on earth will be a pretty miserable place. But God doesn’t seem to do that.
So what is it, Lord? Are you waiting for me to do something? Waiting for me to stop doing something? Is there a clock we are going by to end this suffering?
Why does it go on and on? It’s one thing after another, just lined up. My poor worn out body doesn’t have a chance to heal from one thing before the next one pops up.
Forgive me for self-pity. I hate that in myself. Please bring relief. Please help Annso and I to get through this and still be with you. We are doing the best we can, but it doesn’t seem to be good enough.
Yesterday, some friends visited and said it seems like I’ve turned a corner. That I look good and have been handling this so well. Funny how it looks from the outside compared with how I feel about it.
The days drag on and on, one after another. They seem busy to some extent, but the nights come like a threat and usually deliver the sleeplessness I fear. I pray, Lord, for relief. I pray that we can really turn a corner, that we can really come up over the hump here and have a little season without pain every day.
Chronic pain is so tiring. Help me to get over it, to heal from it, to be able to beat it. I am begging you, Lord.
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“You [Lord] have kept count of my tossings.” (Psalm 56:8)