I lost some of the best years of my life.

Chronic illness smacked me upside the head, and suddenly my life was gone. My dreams, hopes, and aspirations vanished. I didn’t know who I was or what I was doing anymore.

During 5 years of pursuing root diagnoses and working through various treatments, I remained stuck with very little life. As a type-A firstborn, you can imagine how infuriating this was to me. At one point in treatment I couldn't work at all. I mostly slept and forced myself to shower, cook food occasionally, or do dishes; all slow, difficult tasks at the time. I couldn’t run a quick errand without crashing for the rest of the day. Everything was miserable. 

Looking back over my twenties, it sometimes feels like part of my life was stolen. Your twenties are supposed to be time of learning, exploring, and making an impact. It’s probably the best part of life… at least the season you have the most energy, drive, enthusiasm, and ambition.

And yet here I was, in bed, not sure how I could make it another day.

What about you? Do you feel like you’ve lost some of the best years of your life too?

It’s excruciatingly difficult, no matter what you're facing. And yet for me, that season of extreme weakness, isolation, and massive limitations made me reconsider my purpose and my identity in ways I never had. 

Honestly, I still don’t know where I'm going in the next 10 years. My life is still slower than most, despite gradual healing. But I do know this: My God is faithful and does not waste anything. 

The years of extreme pain and debilitating fatigue are not for nothing, because my Father is a redeeming God (Joel 2:25, Psalm 126:5). My pain has been God’s method of grace to me, softening my rough edges, producing grace and compassion, and helping me see eternity for what it is. The detour has been my road. A painful and rocky one, yes. But one filled with countless evidence of God’s love and care, if I can only look hard enough to see past the pain. 

That’s what He wants you to see too--His nearness and gentleness and care. And then watch Him redeem the years you lost, and find that gain to be even better.

“And somehow every unexpected climb

Makes Your goodness that much harder to deny

You’ve been good to me I am safe to hope

I will dare to believe when the way is long and slow

And I am full of doubt but You are kind and close

I will trust the detour is the road

This time will not be wasted

All the sorrow I have tasted

You sing hope across the valley of my tears

Sometimes love looks like delay

But You walk me through the wait

And I am learning laughter even here

You are with me here”

The Detour from the album Faithful, various artists

To the one who wants to die....

I see you there, wrestling with the deep pain, trauma, and heartache.
I see the anger rising up when you think about what's been done to you.
I see the extreme pain and fatigue in your eyes from chronic illness.
I see the fear when you meet a new person, wondering if you can actually trust them.
I see the cynicism and hopelessness as you look toward the future.
I see you longing for some inkling of hope, afraid to admit your deep struggle with depression and suicidal thinking.

Can I sit with you a minute?

I know I can't write anything to take away your pain--physical, mental, or emotional. I know I can't fix it. I can't make life better. I can't even promise that this life will get better, as hard as that is to say. But I can offer a hand and a few words of hope, if you'll give me a chance.

In darkness and hopelessness, there seems to be no way out. But catch a glimpse of this:

"Hopelessness is the only doorway to hope." Paul Tripp, Suffering

How is this possible?

You see, hopelessness actually pushes us to decide where to place our hope. It destroys the places we thought brought hope, but really were empty. Only when we let go of our semblance of control and abandon the false securities and temporary fixes, can we find true hope.

Hopelessness then becomes the doorway between false hope and real hope.

It's ok to wrestle. It's ok to cry out, "How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever?" (Ps. 13:1-2).  But God longs for that despair to turn us from hope in ourselves to the only place of true, lasting hope. As David ends his cries in Psalm 13:

"But I have trusted in your steadfast love;
my heart shall rejoice in your salvation.
I will sing to the Lord,
because he has dealt bountifully with me."

Your heart may not be in a place of singing or rejoicing right now. And that's ok. But keep clinging to Christ in the dark. Don't give up. Let that hopelessness remind you that there's only One who can provide eternal hope. Hope that does not disappoint (Rom. 5:5).

Today's hard has purpose (2 Cor. 4:17). The depression and pain has a set end (Ps. 34:19, 1 Pet. 5:10). God has promised and He is faithful (Heb. 10:23). Land on that.

Praying you find hope today in Him.


*In light of national suicide prevention month, this was written out of a desire to bring hope to those who struggle with suicidal thinking. This is written from my own wrestlings to cling to hope throughout deep challenges in chronic illness. 

When Trusting Jesus Isn't Sweet

“Life is pain, highness. Anyone who says differently is selling something.” 
- The Princess Bride

It's funny... and yet piercingly true, right?

Life in a broken world overflows with difficulty. Pain. Heartache. Disappointment. Broken relationships. Failed health. Crushed dreams.

Have you found that trusting Jesus is more terrifying and even agonizing than you ever imagined? That the joy you were told trust would produce is not the reality in your heart?

You're not alone. This is a common struggle, especially in long seasons of suffering.

It isn’t easy to trust in the dark, to surrender our will and release control. Yet in the darkness, God  becomes our light (Ps. 112:4, 18:28). He longs to bring us to a place of security and rest much more satisfying than our push for our own little kingdoms.

Today, trusting Jesus doesn’t have to be "sweet". You don't have to fake happiness and joy. It's ok to wrestle or grieve the pain you encounter. Give yourself grace to process and time to learn trust in the caring Father.

But even in your wrestling, keep clinging to God's promises. 

Actively choose to trust His goodness, despite the deep pain and heartache (Ps. 28:7). Even though it may feel like He is against you, remind yourself of the truth that He is always for His children (Rom. 8:31). That everything He does is good (Ps. 119:68). Find truth that you can rest your life on and hold onto it with everything you have. Run to the Father who loves you and walks with you:

"Suffering can decimate your faith and leave you with life-altering doubts about the goodness and power of God. So in your suffering, doubt is a battle worth fighting. Remember, you never fight this battle alone but with the strength that is yours because of the presence and power of the One who gave his life so that you would have everything you need even in the darkest of moments in this fallen world. Cry out to your Lord. He hears; he really does. Run to him; he cares and will not turn his back on you in your moment of need." Paul Tripp 

Through that wrestling and clinging in the darkness, God does His deepest, most beautiful work. He gently brings your heart to a place of rest. So even if today trusting Jesus isn't sweet, one day you will be able to sing:

'Tis so sweet to trust in Jesus,
Just to take Him at His Word
Just to rest upon His promise,
Just to know, "Thus saith the Lord!"
Jesus, Jesus, how I trust Him!
How I've proved Him o'er and o'er
Jesus, Jesus, precious Jesus!
Oh, for grace to trust Him more!
-'Tis So Sweet to Trust in Jesus

Oh for grace to trust Him more. We all need that grace today.

Stuck in a Life You Didn't Choose

What are you facing today that you never would have asked for?

If we're honest, we all encounter circumstances in life we despise and desperately wish we could get out of.

For me, despite seeing some health improvement from a couple years of chronic lyme + co-infection treatment, I still have autoimmune issues that aren't improving yet. After thousands of dollars of investments in immune support, endless supplements, special diets, detox protocols, and more, this is a very discouraging reality.

In those moments, anxiety and fear can take over my mind and paralyze me. I could stay stuck in the "what-ifs" and hopelessness, refusing to move forward in life. Or I can cling to what is true and find ways to hold to hope in my reality.

So what is true? When you’re stuck living a life you would never choose, what do you do?

• Grieve. Yes, when you face the brokenness of life, it's right to grieve. The curse is deep and far-reaching. Don't bury your emotions, take them to the Father.
• Trust. Your heavenly Father knows best and only does what is good for you. Believe that even when circumstances seem to contradict it.
• Cling. Hold to hope. Rest in the solid Rock who won't let you down no matter how many people or circumstances do.
• Seek. Look for evidences of God's grace to you. Find joy in the little things. Remind yourself of what you have instead of dwelling on what you don't. Grasp any form of joy you can find.
• Just keep swimming. In Finding Nemo, Dory's optimism (naiive or not) keep her and Marlin searching for Nemo when Marlin's fear paralyzes him. It's terrifying to think of making decisions or moving forward when the weight of life or limitations suffocates. But we must continue to do what we can and "keep swimming," instead of giving up.

Being stuck in a life you didn't choose can leave you feeling hopeless. But Paul Tripp has an interesting insight:

"So it is with suffering; it never leaves you the same. You run into the traps of temptation that greet every sufferer and are left with a cruel harvest in your heart and relationships, or you run toward the comforts of grace, which shine most brightly in the darkness of suffering, and reap a harvest of blessing. Yes, you may continue to suffer, or its effects may remain, but you now live with a changed heart, a sturdier faith, and a joy that suffering cannot take away." Paul Tripp

Where do you find yourself today? Are you left with the "cruel harvest" of bitterness, cynicism, and hopelessness? Or has God's grace done a work in your heart?

If you, like me, find yourself on either side of the spectrum depending on the day, continue to press in and find comfort and strength in the arms of the Father. You may not have chosen your life, but God has, and His ways are always good. Perhaps they don't feel good, but they will reap good fruit if you will humbly submit yourself to His plan. He will not waste your suffering.

Dare to Hope

Life in a broken world is filled with challenges and disappointments. People disappoint us, circumstances disappoint us, we disappoint ourselves... and if we're really honest, at times we feel like God disappoints us.

Hope, therefore, is a crucial part of life. It offers perspective and motivation beyond current pain or challenges, just like a mother can endure the pain of childbirth because she knows the reward of holding her baby will be worth it.

But recurring, failed hope crushes us. "Hope deferred makes the heart sick" (Pr. 13:12).

Has your hope been dashed again and again? Are you waiting on something that still hasn't come? Depression and hopelessness from delayed or failed hope can swallow us. I believe Jeremiah felt it too when he described his troubles in Lamentations:

"My soul is bereft of peace; I have forgotten what happiness is; so I say, 'My endurance has perished; so has my hope from the Lord.'" Lam. 3:17-18, ESV

It's not wrong to wrestle with hopelessness—it's part of living in a sin-cursed world. But if we stay stuck in the spiral of despair, we will lose motivation to live. 

Jeremiah gives us a beautiful example of what it means to speak the truth to your own heart in the midst of seeming impossibility:

"Yet I stil​l ​dare to hope when I remember this..." Lam. 3:21, NLT

Jeremiah's barely clinging to hope. His desperate circumstances probably make him feel like hope doesn't exist. Yet despite the hopelessness in and around him, he dares to hope in the steadfast love of God. In the One greater than the darkness surrounding him. In the One redeeming the worst of circumstances.

We too need this kind of tenacity. We need to desperately cling to hope outside of ourselves when things are at their worst. In spite of flailing emotions, we need to dare to hope in something, Someone, who is greater than our greatest fears or pain.

Whatever you're facing, dare to hope today in the steadfast love of God. He is the only source of hope that will never fail you.

To the One Sick of Enduring...

Dear weary one,

I don't know exactly what you're walking through, but I sympathize with your agony and desperation. Life is unbearably hard sometimes. There are days it doesn't seem worth it to face the ongoing pain of suffering, health problems, relationships, ministry, or life.

It’s normal to be weary and want the suffering to end. The Psalmist himself wrestled:

“I am weary with my moaning; every night I flood my bed with tears; 
I drench my couch with my weeping.” Psalm 6:6

Some days I’m weary with the cost too. The cost of following Christ. The cost of cross-bearing.

It’s ok to struggle. To be tired of enduring. But don’t give up. Look up.

"When I am weary with the cost
I see the triumph of the cross
So in its shadow I shall run
Til you complete the work begun"
When Trials Come

Looking to Jesus and His finished work on the cross propels us to endure when all around seems hopeless (Heb. 12:3). He gives us hope to continue to do what's right when we can't see results (Gal. 6:9). God also uses those desperate circumstances to teach us to rely on Him (2 Cor. 1:8-9). If we endure, we will reign with Him (2 Tim. 2:12).

And you know what else? Jesus promises rest in the midst of your heavy burdens and weariness:

"Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light." Matthew 11:28-30

The gospel brings freedom from sin, purpose to our pain, and glorious future hope. May the triumph of the cross, the truth that Jesus faced the worst suffering on your behalf to save you from eternal suffering, give hope to you in your weariness today.

God provides fresh grace to endure the challenges of each day. He holds you fast when all you want to do is give up. Don't lose heart: He is redeeming and restoring. There is purpose in the heartache and brokenness. If you find yourself sick of enduring today, look to Jesus to find rest and hope.

- A fellow traveler seeking to endure

When the Holidays Are Hard

The holiday season is supposed to be "merry and bright," full of excitement and wonder...
but do you feel the exact opposite?

Does it seem like you have nothing to be thankful for or excited about this year? Nothing to look forward to? That everything’s been taken away and God is more against you than for you?

Many people experience deep sadness, depression, resurfacing bad memories, or even night terrors around the holidays. While there is a lot of hype and excitement about this season, it can discourage those who are hurting even more, as it’s another reminder of what has been lost.

If you’ve lost your health due to chronic illness, are facing relational conflict, grieving a loss, or despairing about Christmas because of the difficulty of life, let me encourage you with a few reminders:

1. It’s ok if the holidays are hard. Holidays can be a very difficult time for so many reasons. It's part of life in a broken, sin-cursed world. Instead of feeling guilty and despairing that it’s so hard, continually ask God to give you grace for each day. He will provide.

2. It’s good to cry out in the pain. It's natural to hate the pain you're facing, whether that's physical or emotional. It's normal to struggle. And it's good to grieve the pain and the losses. As you cry out in the pain, let it push you to God and not away from Him. He is a great Comforter.

3. Excitement and joy are not the end goal. If you are struggling to make it though the holidays, you don't have to hype yourself up or force joy. Yet even when it's really hard, it's helpful to focus on what you do have instead of what you've lost. This helps direct your heart and mind to what is true and give you a sense of gratitude in the difficulty. Ask God to help you see how you can honor Him through the pain. And talk to a friend or family member who can help you see past the fog.

4. Be thankful for the little things. Was your pain more endurable today? Did someone unexpectedly send you a text or a gift? Did a doctor's appointment reveal something you were unaware of? Did you have a warm drink today or a delicious meal? Did you see a clear evidence of God's grace and kindness towards you? Instead of being consumed by the losses, thank God for those small blessings.

5. Remember the greatest truth—Immanuel is “God with us”. The beauty of the Christmas season is not in the memories, the traditions, the people, or the gifts (although those are good things). The most comforting truth is that God came to dwell with us, sinful men and women, to bring hope and redemption. Jesus entered our brokenness to bring us freedom from sin. He, Immanuel, has not left you alone, but walks with you today.

As you struggle through the pain associated with the winter holidays, may you also find comfort in the God and Father who dwells with us, amidst the pain and the messiness. May that truth bring hope and comfort to our weary hearts.

Chronic Illness Lessons: Learning to Grieve

First in a new series!

There is a type of inevitable grief that comes with chronic illness. The loss of a job, friends, hobbies, and more, due to declining health, make the present and the future dark. Not knowing if it'll ever improve causes the loss to feel even more unbearable. Just as an amputee is forced to learn to live with the loss of a limb, a chronically ill person has to learn to live with newfound limitations. This, and the emotions that coincide, are some of the greatest challenges.

One of my biggest losses in chronic illness was the piano. I played the piano for 17 years before it was suddenly stripped away. Every time I attempted to play, my pain would become excruciating. Eventually, I stopped trying. I questioned whether I had lost that gift for good.

In my battle with chronic illness, one of the lessons I've learned is that it's ok to grieve. I've been on a journey of learning how to lament. To cry out to God in the pain. To take the emotions to my heavenly Father instead of burying them deep inside.

For a long time I thought I just had to be content and joyful with my chronic illness, and it was perpetually frustrating that it was so hard for me. Every day I was stuck on my bed I would be discouraged and frustrated, which in turn propelled more frustration that I couldn't just accept it! Why couldn't I just "grin and bear it"? After all, it wasn't anything new.

And then I realized God wasn't asking me to ignore the pain and just "be joyful". There's a reason the Psalms are full of laments, cries, and pleas. God is trying to teach us how to lament and grieve when we face very difficult losses. Biblically grieving losses in a broken world reflects God Himself.

The Psalms are full of very raw, honest, and desperate cries:

"How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever?
How long will you hide your face from me?
How long must I take counsel in my soul
and have sorrow in my heart all the day?"
Psalm 13:1-2

"Save me, O God! For the waters have come up to my neck.
I sink in deep mire, where there is no foothold;
I have come into deep waters, and the flood sweeps over me.
I am weary with my crying out; my throat is parched.
My eyes grow dim with waiting for my God."
Psalm 69:1-3

The Psalms help give words to our grief. They relate to us as we face loss and teach us what it looks like to grieve and lament in a way that honors God. Vaneetha Rendall Risner, in her book, The Scars that Have Shaped Me, talks about the implications of this truth:

"Our authenticity draws others to God as it allows them to be honest, too. God welcomes our lament to help us hold on to him. He knows that our tendency is either to pretend everything is okay (while we suffocate on the inside) or to walk away from God, believing he doesn’t care. Lamenting keeps us engaged with God. When we lament, we invite God into our pain so that we can know his comfort, and others can see that our faith is real."

Facing the difficult emotions of grief and crying out to God in lament sometimes feels wrong. It seems like we're doubting and questioning God when we shouldn't. Yet amazingly, when we lament, we are staying engaged with God, and it actually displays the genuineness of our faith to others.

So as you face losses in chronic illness, take that grief to God. Cry out to Him. Be honest about your struggles. Lament. Then let the God of all comfort be your Comforter.

Your willingness to lament encourages other sufferers more than a joyful facade ever will.

*Post based off Hope and Help for Chronic Illness