Difficult Seasons

It’s been a difficult summer at our house.  I really haven’t written about it, but I’ll share a few things now.

Eloise, my sweet wife of 42 1/2 years, hurt her knee in late spring (from playing with the grandchildren of course).  It was so painful for a few weeks that she could barely walk, and actually it hurt too much to drive.  Difficult stuff for a very independent woman!  It certainly changed her day to day life, and naturally mine too.

She had begun experiencing wrist and arm pain even before she hurt her knee.  Because she works on the computer so much, we naturally assumed it was carpel tunnel.  But not working on the computer brought no relief.

Her first stop was her internist.  He wasn’t quite sure what the knee injury was, but he recognized the wrists and hands as Rheumatoid Arthritis, and recommended she see both an othorpedist and a rheumatologist.

While waiting to get in to see the orthopedic guy, the knee began to improve.  He diagnosed it as a torn meniscus and prescribed exercise.

While waiting to get in to see the rheumatologist (8 week wait — underserved specialty you know), the pain from the arthritis continued to get worse, and began showing up in more joints.  Almost you name the joint, it was painful.

Eloise is a professor of education, and thankfully had the first part of the summer off.  She had regained her ability to walk and drive by the beginning of July when she began teaching two graduate classes.  While it’s been quite painful, she has taught like a trooper.

Yesterday was a big day.  We got to go see the rheumatologist, praying that she would offer us hope of relief and improvement.  And thankfully, she did exactly that.

From across the room, she told us that there was no doubt that Eloise had rheumatoid arthritis.  Her physical exam revealed that it is affecting most joints — not a surprise to us.  But it was great to receive a definitive diagnosis, to know that treatment could begin, that relief was on its way.

The most encouraging thing to hear was the doctor saying, “My goal is to help you get back to 100%, and I have every confidence that we’ll be able to do just that.”  She talked to us about treatment plans, what the starting point would be, and how we could expect things to progress.  The plan included some things that would help in the short term while the meds that will control the RA begin to work.

Eloise asked for and received a handicapped tag.  Those of you who have watched her trying to get around have no questions about her need for one.  But the doctor told her that it would only be a temporary tag because she was going to get better and not need it.

Hope.  It’s a huge thing.  Eloise doesn’t feel better today physically, but she certainly does emotionally because of hope.  We’re thankful beyond words.

Expression of Hope

I read a lot of posts this weekend that expressed in one way or another the hope of Easter.

Here’s one from my friend John Dobbs that retweets a post by @LongBeachMH about family being all together more often, and talking about the hope of Heaven.  Knowing some about John’s life, his added amen to the post says volumes.

I recognize that the central hope in my own life rests in the resurrection.  This life is not the end.  It’s the preparation for what’s coming.  And this hope is indeed precious.  Everything else in life flows from it.

Tomorrow as I visit folks dealing with cancer, I am aware that while we will  pray for healing, that the ultimate hope we share lies in the resurrection.

I can’t imagine my life without the hope of resurrection.  I can’t imagine how I’d deal with the pain and suffering I see in patients’ lives, much less how they’d deal with it.

This Easter, I’m thankful.  And tomorrow I’ll be thankful again.  Because hope is everything.

Good News

Good news is precious.

We, like the shepherds long ago, know that, because we have all been the receivers of bad news.

Someone we love has died.  We or someone we love dearly has cancer, ALS, Alzheimer’s, or some other dreaded disease.  A spouse says they don’t want to be married any more.  Our job is gone. Or a tornado or hurricane has destroyed our home and memories.

Here’s what the angel said when he came to visit the shepherds:

“I bring you good news of great joy which will be for all the people;  for today in the city of David there has been born for you a Savior, who is Christ the Lord.” (Luke 2: 10-11)

What is this “good news of great joy?”

“For God had such love for the world that he gave his only Son, so that whoever has faith in him may not come to destruction but have eternal life.” (John 3:16)

We’ve experienced enough of this life to understand why the hope of an eternal life free from the injustice, loss, and pain of this earthly life is precious.

And that’s why we celebrate the coming of Jesus.  His coming brought with it the hope that’s so precious to us, that keeps us going through the unimaginable.

Merry Christmas, folks.

Light at the End of a Tunnel

Hope begins in the dark, the stubborn hope that if you just show up and try to do the right thing, the dawn will come. Anne Lamott

When a loss event occurs, whether it’s death, illness, a broken relationship, a lost job, or whatever, we naturally head into a darker place.

It’s just like entering a tunnel.  At first, we still have some light, because we’re just getting started.  But as we move further into the grief and chaos that accompanies loss, life becomes darker.  It’s harder to see where to go, what to do, because we don’t have enough light.

Hope that an end to the darkness will eventially come is a critical element to coping during difficult seasons.  For those experiencing the season, holding onto hope is a daily challenge.

With hope, a person can show up and try to do the right things.  Without hope, paralysis sets in.

To those of us who sojourn with those experiencing difficult seasons, whether as friends, or relatives, or caregivers or chaplains, helping them maintain this hope is one of the most helpful things we can do.  Having others who have experienced similar seasons listen and then offer an encouraging word of hope is healing.

If you’re in the midst of a difficult season, seek out those who can bolster your hope.  And once you’re out of that season, seek out those to whom you can provide hope.