I just spent the better part of an hour trying to compose a new blog entry that ended up feeling way too morbid and depressing. So, I deleted it, but here’s the extremely brief summation. I’m tired of physically hurting and I’m tired of never feeling peace and joy no matter how hard I try to move beyond this pain.
I honestly wish I found Biblical scripture comforting anymore, but I don’t. There was a time I used to, when I hadn’t suffered for as many years as I have now. Sadly, I no longer find the passages or stories from the Bible comforting anymore, especially after contracting COVID, which seems to have taken every bit of steam I had left in me that had been helping me to keep going.
Am I going through some dark night of the soul? I don’t know. I used to go through moments of this from time to time, but still had plenty of positive and uplifting experiences intermixed throughout. But, now every day feels gray and poses greater and greater challenges to keep going and to keep believing that God is there and still has a better plan for me than this.
I keep on practicing my gratitude and my daily spiritual routines every single day, hoping it’s all helping me somehow still. And I continue to accept my conditions in life as best as I can, putting one foot forward in front of the other each day I continue to remain alive. But, I’m weary. And yet, I still cling to some shard of faith, even when it often feels like there’s no reason to have any of that anymore.
I frequently find myself wondering lately if my evangelical friends would still be praising Christ as they do, if they had suffered for years with no answers like I have. As I’ve said before in some of my previous writings, it’s so easy to have faith in God when you’re still able to function somewhat normally in your body, when your body remains healthy. But when the very vessel you are forced to live in totally feels like it betrays you, and doesn’t respond anymore like it once did, when all efforts to make it better get thwarted, and many years pass by like this, it’s hard to see God through a positive set of eyes, and continue to believe He’s an all-loving, all-caring, type of being.
Yet, I still cling to my cross. Literally. I take it off my wall in my bedroom every morning and hold it often in tears. Begging God for answers, even though none have come thus far surrounding my health. I still love God, even though I question whether God still loves me. I still shout out to God, even though it seems like God remains on total radio silence with me. And I still believe somewhere deep within me that God isn’t going to leave me like this and that I will be restored to a healthier mind and body one day in this life.
I know many have told me that the longevity of my health issues may say otherwise with what God’s plan is for me. Well, I still continue to believe otherwise, even after all this time. It may indeed be that I only have a mustard seed of faith left in that and in God, but somehow, I think it’s this type of faith that God looks for in us. And that alone is enough at least for today for me to keep going, for one more day…as I continue to pray for a brighter day to come…
Peace, love, light, and joy,
Andrew Arthur Dawson
