Blurry vision and a red eye were my first clues. When light sent shafts of pain through
my eye, I didn’t need the doctor to confirm what I knew. Iritis had returned.
The ophthalmologist’s words, “Let’s hit this hard and knock it out,” did nothing to lift my heavy heart.
I sat in the van, fighting against the sting of tears. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t stop the questions: "Where are You, Lord, in the midst of pain? How much is enough? What point is there to the aggressive treatment to curb this inflammation? And why should I put myself through such debilitation when the inflammation just keeps coming back? You know I don’t want to go to the highest level of treatment. God, where are You?"
The silence did nothing to alleviate my despair.
Yet, through the day, prayers came in via e-mails and phone calls, along with offers of help.
By the time night fell, my question was answered.
Where is God in the midst of my pain?
Right here, reaching out through the love and suuport of those who care.
Right here, allowing a cancellation in the rheumatologist’s schedule so I could have an appointment in a few days rather than a few months.
I only had to open my eyes to His mercy. “Whither shall I go from thy spirit? Or whither shall I flee from thy presence? If I ascend up into heaven, thou art there: if I make my bed in hell, behold, thou art there. If I take the wings of the morning, and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea; Even there shall thy hand lead me, and thy right hand shall hold me.” Psalms 139:7-10
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