A Blessing or a Curse?

I have a chronic disease...Yay!

This is not something you hear.  Ever.

When I was seventeen, I spent a lot of time in and out of doctor's offices and finally the hospital until they figured out what had been plaguing me for years:  Crohn's disease. 

Basically, it means that my body attacks itself in the form of horrible stomach issues.  Ulcers, pain, frequent trips to the bathroom, dehydration.  It's kind of like having a stomach virus all the time when I have a flare up.

I had a complete meltdown at seventeen, realizing that I would have this For The Rest of My Life.  Having a chronic malady, whatever it is, and being in a lot of pain, well, it changes you.  And not always for the better. 

There were full years of my whining and complaining, being terrified to eat anything, moping in my pajamas all day long.  That's right.  Years.

I had the whole Why-Did-God-Let-This-Happen-to-Me? thing going on.  Selfishness at its best.

I prayed.  Hard.  I prayed that God would heal me and take it away from me.  I still pray that.

But he didn't.  And he hasn't.  And maybe He never will.

Because you know what?  God's more interested in my salvation and my character than in my physical comfort.  He's willing to let me suffer with this disease because it is a tool that leads me back to Him time and time again.

I'm one of those Christians. You know, the ones who tend to think I'm doing things right and don't need God.  I don't intentionally think this way; it just happens.  Life goes along smoothly, and I forget to praise Him and be humbled to Him.  Life always gets in the way when things seem good.

And then, BOOM!  I'm hit with a day where I can barely take care of myself, let alone my two small children (who, by the way, ALWAYS want to be in the bathroom with me).  And I turn back to that constant praying, constant seeking, constant humbling.  Where He wants me.

And when I'm flaring, I have so much more sympathy for others who are in pain. Because I KNOW how constant pain feels.  I GET it the way people who don't have chronic diseases just can't.  They can be nice and encouraging and helpful, but they never really truly understand.  I try really hard to be happy for them.

But there are always those disease-less people who look at me and say, You are so tiny, so thin!  Aren't you so lucky!"

Sometimes I dare to tell them that it isn't luck, exactly, but a horrific ordeal with my stomach.  Sometimes people are sympathetic.  But sometimes they say the thing that I wish they wouldn't say, "Boy, would I love to have THAT disease!"

No, I always think, you really wouldn't.

  It's just the OTHER side to the weight issue.  Some people seek comfort in food, and their bodies show it.  My body doesn't deal well with food and I am often scared of it...and my body shows it.  It's just as frustrating to go into your closet and have pants that are too baggy, too big as it is to go into your closet and have clothes that are too small.  I promise.  It's frustrating trying to keep your weight at a good level, whichever way your fighting, gaining pounds or losing them.

It stinks going to my doctor's office and getting on the scales and the nurse grimacing because I've lost ANOTHER five pounds and am well underweight.  Just like it is to have those scales tip the other way.

But...

But...

But..

Here's the thing.  Crohn's disease makes me a better person.  This struggle, this heartache, this pain, it makes me softer, more aware of other's pain.  It makes me a listening ear, a shoulder to cry on.  I hope it makes me a better friend, wife, daughter, mother, acquaintance, teacher...human.

So, yes, most days it feels like a curse.  But I always have the choice to think of it the other way, the better way:  It's a blessing that God gave this to me.  It makes me understand Him more, makes me draw near to Him more. 

I know that my cure won't come until I die.  But when you think about it, it's the same for everyone.  Whether they have a chronic disease, a terminal disease, an addiction, overwhelming anxiety, too much stress, a bad temperament, nothing is cured until we are done with this life, with this body.  God allows us these things, these tiny sufferings that seem so huge, to remind us of a Greater Good.  To point us to an Eternal Healing. 

And so we can choose to be thankful or regretful.  Today, as I sit on the couch, my stomach at arms with my body, my energy already zapped, I choose, once again, to be thankful.