Just when we feel discouraged god can find a way to reach out us that reminds us to keeping going. Join me in welcoming our new writer, Susan.
“For You, O Lord, have delivered my soul from death, my eyes from tears, my feet from stumbling, that I may walk before the Lord in the land of the living.” (Psalm 116: 8-9)
I pulled on my left tennis shoe and placed my right knee onto a knee scooter. With one push of my left foot, I began my first day at home without assistance–five days after a right ankle reconstruction. I rolled down the hallway in search of coffee.
Lily, my parent’s King Charles Cavalier, followed close.
Diagnosed with Mitochondrial Disease in 2010, my muscles weakened over time and stretched several joints beyond repair. By October 2013, I had undergone three orthopedic surgeries in ten months. Tired from continual recovery, I ignored Lily’s pleas for interaction.
But as I sipped coffee in front of the glass back door, we noticed a cat sunning on the porch. The furry feline stretched while Lily’s brown eyes pleaded with me to let her loose. When the caffeine rush cleared my morning fog, I consented. I flung the door open, and watched as she took off in pursuit, yelping in delight.
Then I wondered if she would come back.
I called for her from the back door. No response. So I went to the front where I saw her racing towards the back. After rolling to the back of the house, I called–again. Still, no response. Back at the front, I fought panic till she sauntered up behind me, having entered from the back–very wet from the creek behind my parent’s home.
I scolded her briefly and then scooted to the laundry room in search of a dog towel. It was then I decided in home therapy wasn’t necessary. I just needed Lily dog.
When I lounged on mom’s bed longer than she could handle, she yipped and barked till I stirred. Most of the time she wanted me to let her out the back door to run fast and free. But other times she just wanted me out of bed.
I didn’t give in all the time. This girl deserved some rest. But I love how she touched a place in me therapists couldn’t reach. I love how she cuddled and then pushed to keep me from succumbing to the mental never-never land that overtakes after swallowing pain meds.
I wanted to detach and crawl into a cave after the third surgery. But then Lily dog nudged me. And I felt the God of the universe using His creation to remind me to stay close; to keep moving forward; and to rest in His presence as a beloved child of God.
prayer: Dear Jesus, Help us see the creative ways You reach into our tired lives to keep us connected to our families, our church bodies, and more importantly, to You. Break the lie that often tells us no one cares about our pain when You sent Your son to make a daily difference in our suffering. Amen.
About the Author:
Susan Schreer Davis lives in Georgia with her husband, Don. She’s battled mitochondrial disease for over ten years and enjoys reaching out to others through her blogs at http://www.coffeefaithandchronicdisease.blogspot.com.
When we’re tired, worn out, hardly able to take care of ourselves, it’s easy to detach. Do any of you have a Lily in your life? A child, friend, or animal that keeps you going when you want to cave in?
We never know what God is going to send to us to remind us of His love. So look for it! Expect it! Be eager for it! When you don’t know what to do or where to look, just remember to look toward Jesus. This is a beautiful song with Selah, “I Look to You.”