‘Relationships are built on trust’ – that’s a phrase you hear often. But have you ever considered that trust might be more than a necessity? That it might actually be one of the greatest gifts you can give someone, particularly someone who is living with a chronic illness?
The Oxford dictionary defines trust as the ‘firm belief in the reliability, truth, or ability of someone or something.’
Think about that for a moment. With this definition in mind, how would you feel if someone said, ‘I trust you’? I’d feel pretty good. I’d feel recognized, validated and affirmed. I’d feel more confident in myself. I’d feel challenged to ‘keep up the good work’. All that from three words.
Continue reading “The beautiful gift of trust in chronic illness”
Did you know that it’s impossible not to have expectations?
However vague, we always have some sense of what an event or a holiday or a job or a coffee-date will be like. Often, when we say we had “no expectations” what we really mean is we had “low expectations”.
Christmas and the holiday season bring a lot of expectations.
What comes to mind when you hear the word “Christmas”? Food, fun, community, isolation, stress – whatever connotations you have, they will form part of your expectation for the season.
Christmas and the good thing about expectations
Chronic illness can make expectations necessary.
Continue reading “Expectations and why they’re good: Christmas”
“Lament” is an old fashioned word. I can often be more of a ‘let’s just move on’ sort of person myself. Yet the Bible teaches that there’s something sacred about our sorrow.
I’ve recently finished A Sacred Sorrow: reaching out to God in the lost language of Lament. This book by Michael Card was given to me by a friend after my mum was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer.
I must admit I thought I knew quite a bit about turning to God in the midst of sorrow, but this book helped clarify and stretch my understanding.
Most of all, it helped me understand why it’s important to cry out to God – even when I’d prefer just to ‘move on’.
If you want to an overview of the book, read on. If you want to skip to my assessment, scroll down!
Continue reading “Why must we express our anger to God? (Book Review: A Sacred Sorrow)”
I’ve been absent lately.
I’ve discovered that it’s quite difficult to type with a broken wrist!
I’m also settling in to what it looks like to be at home, loving someone going through chemotherapy.
It’s not easy. Patience and domestic duties have never been my strong points. Far from it actually. Some days I want to give it all up and become an “impartial observer”. It hurts much less when you fail and takes far less effort!
Nevertheless, God has called me to be a Watcher right now, so I pray and know He will equip me in all the ways necessary (and probably in a lot I’d like to pretend aren’t necessarily, like the ability to ‘see’ what needs to be done around the house or remember to pick up my own clothes from the floor).
ALSO an exciting piece of news: This is the 100th post on Called to Watch! Is there someone you know who might find this blog helpful? Take a moment to send them the link, or sign up for email updates!
Being a Watcher is hard, and instead of ‘really’ caring, it’s tempting to disengage emotionally. When this happens, we become “impartial observers”.
Continue reading “Loving a sick person is too hard! (Watchers, we are not impartial observers)”
I have a chronic illness, and I’ve recently been challenged about what it looks like for me to serve, specifically in mission (whether domestic or overseas).
Today’s post is my thoughts in regards to a series of questions I was asked by Wendy.
Q1. Why does it seem noble to sacrifice personal comfort to serve God in a third world country, but not to sacrifice your energy (as someone who has chronic fatigue) to serve in my own country?
Firstly, I think you’re right when you say there’s a difference between giving up your health security in a general sense (moving to a 3rd world country) and specifically sacrificing it, knowing exactly what the consequences will be.
Both scenarios involve potential daily suffering, but they are different, and I think it’s very important to acknowledge that at the very beginning.
Continue reading “I have a chronic illness: Is God calling me to sacrifice my health?”
“I’ve got this.”
“Honestly, it’s fine, I promise.”
Sometimes it’s easy to forget that we are only a Watcher, and instead begin to think that we are (or should be) a “saint”.
This is what it looks like:
Watchers, we are not saints
- …. feel guilty all the time. I’m not a good Watcher. Not even passable. Why can’t I do anything right?
- … gloss over your hardships and sacrifices. Oh I don’t do much, not at all. Yes I spent all day driving my loved one to appointments in the rain, but that doesn’t matter. It was nothing!
- … never share your problems. I’m going fine. One’s got to do what they’ve got to do! Other people have it worse, after all.
Continue reading ““I’m fine, don’t worry about me!”(Watchers, we are not Saints)”
I don’t like being sad. Do you?
Being sad means I no longer feel like laughing at someone’s joke or daydreaming in the sun.
Being sad can mean I get headaches from crying, or find it difficult to concentrate during lectures, sermons or long conversations.
And yet, the truth is, when tragedy strikes our loved ones, it can actually be helpful to be sad.
3 reasons it’s good to be sad:
1. Sadness is reality
Let us not lose sight of the fact that when someone we love is suffering we ought to be sad.
It’s not merely ‘okay’ or ‘acceptable’ – but it is good.
If your heart does not break at the new distress of someone you love, something is not right.
Feeling sad means you’re human.
It means you have a living, breathing, sympathetic heart, and that is good. We were not created to be stone statues, but living people created in the likeness of a God who weeps as well as laughs.
Sadness is the right response to tragic reality. It means you see the world as it is. Life is not all happy games and hopes fulfilled. It is just as equally a dark valley and night time tears.
To see and feel sorrow when it is present is good.
Sadness is the right response to tragedy. It is part of being human – tweet!
Continue reading “3 reasons it is good to be sad after a chronic illness diagnosis”
Sadness after a chronic illness diagnosis, that’s valid, right?
It’s a good thing… yes?
Well – sort of.
Sadness can be restrictive
Strange as it may seem, having mixed emotions can actually be a saving grace.
If we are sad over our Loved One’s suffering, but simultaneously frustrated at the doctors, angry at God or jealous of others, no one feeling has complete control.
After all, we’re only human, and cannot plumb the depths of ‘anger’ at the exact same time as we are reaching into the extent and intensity of ‘grief’.
With many emotions comes also many options for relief, more opportunities for someone to say ‘me too’.
Yet when we are simply sad, it can become all-consuming. We can easily develop ‘tunnel vision’, and our sadness may push aside every other happiness.
In one sense that’s okay. It’s not wrong to feel grief, and immense grief will be felt immensely.
But it can also be harmful, because we all need some measure of distance. Continue reading “The 3 dangers of being sad after a chronic illness diagnosis”
I hesitate to share this. It’s personal. It’s ‘deep’… and this is in itself is normally an indicator that I shouldn’t post it on the World Wide Web.
We’ve looked at why it’s okay to cry in public and also how to respond. Now this is my story…
My story of public grief (and what it taught me about God and chronic illness)
I believe it’s important.
This experience was one of the times I have seen God teaching me ‘in the moment’. It was a valuable lesson – and so I share it, not for sympathy or scandal, but so you might also see the God I saw that day.
Continue reading “What I learnt when I cried in church”
What do we do when we find ourselves crying in church? – Is this a silly question? I don’t think it is.
I like practical answers.
If something uncomfortable has to happen, I want to know how I can fix it (or, preferably, avoid it).
What do I do when I find myself crying? Is this a question that needs to be answered?
I think it is.
Because weeping in public is not a common occurrence in Western culture. We generally try to avoid it – and so when we weep in public it is because we are overcome with grief. Tears take us by surprise; we are unprepared.
And personally, I’d rather not be. So let’s think about it now, before we find ourselves in that situation.
What should we do when we find ourselves overcome with emotion in public place?
Continue reading “How to cope with grief in a public place”