Sunday, February 9, 2014

A Pain So Deep


There is a pain so deep that it defies explanation.  It is like waves pounding against a sand fortress steadily wearing it down until there is nothing.  As it wears away the last remnants of your resistance, there is still pain, and it will never go away, it will never cease.

There is a fatigue so dark and complete that each moment is a struggle for consciousness with a heaviness that seems to press so firmly against your mind, not to be stopped by will or force.  Like a bed of quicksand you thrash against the pull to sleep, only to be drawn in deeper than before.

There is an emptiness so complete and dark that your soul trembles in fright, at the hollow expanse threatening to swallow your very existence.  The pale of its shadow is cast upon everything that is good in your life, turning it into black nothingness.


There is a peace so complete that it defies explanation, filling the emptiness and void that that nothing else can.  Seeping into the tension that the world creates in your soul.  It eases your cares and your frets, making complete that which was ragged shards of exposed fear.

There is a sustaining strength, not of your own, that stands beside you holding firm when you no longer can.  It fills the drained resources, washing away the weariness and propping you up to face the next moments with resilience.

There is a healing so complete it erases all evidence of suffering both now and in the future.  This healing may not come today, but the hope that wells in your soul pushes aside all doubt, bolstering you until the time it comes.

No one can understand the endurance required to live a life of chronic pain and fatigue, but far harder to comprehend is how one lives this life without the hope and strength of salvation through Jesus Christ.  For in Him is this source of peace, strength and healing.






3 comments:

Maria Bennett said...

You are in my prayers always, my friend

Cathy Morgan said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Cathy Morgan said...

Thank you, Keith; I'm grateful for this reflection--remembering you today.
Cathy