Heart Journey: Weary

A song has been stuck in my head for the last few days. It's not well known, but was recorded by Rich Mullins (one of the last songs released before his death) and it has a somewhat cumbersome title: "We Are Not as Strong as We Think We Are." It's a song about brokenness in relationships more than anything else, but I think it also hints (at least for me) at the brokenness in humanity, and the brokenness I see in myself.

I am not as strong as I think I am. And this recovery has been harder than I ever thought it would be.

There are, admittedly, much different dynamics than nineteen years ago, not the least of which is trying to get all the blood levels right. My iron is too low. My INR (which measures the thickness or thinness of my blood) is too high. And just about the time one gets straightened out, the other goes out of whack. It's a frustrating and discouraging game, though it is one the doctors tell me I will ultimately win (with their help). I just have to have patience. (Yeah, not necessarily something I've ever been good at.) Meanwhile, the warnings echo in my head: be careful not to fall, or to cut yourself. Eat green vegetables, but not too many. Watch the carbs, beware of the sugar...sometimes it seems that there's not much left to eat!

Two weeks post-op, here's the honest truth: I am sore and weary and worn out most of the time. The best part of the day is late afternoon to around dinner time. That seems to be when I have the most energy and interest in being up and around. This is not me, but it reminds me again I am not as strong as I think I am.

My family has been fantastic. My church family has loved us well. Folks from the community have continued to show care and concern. I am eternally grateful for all of that, believe me. But to be completely transparent, there have been moments when I have found myself struggling to hold onto hope: hope that the next day will be any better, hope that recovery will end and life can begin again, hope that I can overcome this challenge. There are moments in the day when I wish I had not gone ahead with the surgery. I know medically I had no other choice, but I am not as strong as I think I am. Maybe I'm not as strong as you think I am.

I continue to covet your prayers and I am blessed by your concern. God is with me, this I know, and he is the only strength I have. I am not strong, but he is, and for that, I am eternally thankful.