Two days before Thanksgiving, 2025, marked the beginning of Bill’s first hospitalization. Since then, we have experienced the full hospitality of LGH four more times. Often, I feel like I’m trying to run a marathon over a sea of mud. Our landscape of normal has greatly altered. Normal connections I had with our local church have suffered. If you attend a really large church and miss a lot of services (even though it is because of illness), it is easy for others to assume you began attending another of the multiple services. I miss people.
LOSING MY NORMAL
Another part of my identity was based on the women I help mentor spiritually. My schedule for that went up in flames due to the extended periods I spent at the hospital with Bill. Then there was my part-time substitute teaching. My subbing gigs greatly decreased as my calendar bounced back and forth week after week. Worst of all, my sacred space with God was pushed further and further to the side as I struggled with my new companion of constant exhaustion. What do you do when you feel like every day is a new day, but a lot of days you highly wish you never had to endure?
JEREMIAH AND THE PIT
Read Jeremiah 38:1-28. Have you ever thought about how Jeremiah felt when he was thrown into that slimy, stinking mud at the bottom of the cistern? Leading up to this, Jeremiah didn’t experience a winning season. As a preacher, he faced an audience that not only didn’t pay any attention to his message, but also falsely accused him of being a turncoat. He was beaten, imprisoned in a dungeon for a lengthy period, given a brief reprieve, and finally thrown into that terrible cistern. The narrative tells us that he was so mired in the mud that it took thirty men pulling on ropes to lift him out of that pit. What do you do when you feel like every day is a new day, but a lot of days you highly wish you never had to endure?
WHEN THE DARKNESS SEEMS OVERWHELMING
What did Jeremiah find in that dark cistern? What happens when all you can hear is the dripping of water, and help seems galaxies away? Since last November, we have gone through numerous incorrect diagnoses, innumerable lab work, painful tests, and days when we thought Bill was approaching heaven at lightning speed. The encroaching darkness has felt overwhelming.
WHERE TO RUN
What do you do when you feel like every day is a new day, but a lot of days you highly wish you never had to endure? You fling yourself into the arms of Jesus. This is not a Hail Mary. This is running to the only One Who has, and can sustain you in the days to come. I run to the God of Eternity.
THE FORTRESS IN THE MIDST OF THE BATTLE
Psalm 46:1-7 paints a picture of a world in which the mountains are quaking, seas are surging, and earth is giving way. Everything that previously could be depended on has fallen away. Yet, verse seven says, “The Lord Almighty is with us; the God of Jacob is our fortress.” It is one thing to consider God as with us. It is quite another to consider God as actually being our fortress.
What did Jeremiah discover in that dark cistern? What do you do when you feel like every day is a new day, but a lot of days you highly wish you never had to endure? What happens when much of what you depend on has flown the coop?
HE IS ENOUGH!
When everything is taken away, and all that is left is God, God is enough. Ask God to open your eyes to His fortress of love. To the praise of His glory!