Sick Beds

It was a holiday weekend. My husband had taken an extra day off so we could enjoy some fun family time. I woke up early in the morning with a piercing headache and I begged God to make it go away so I wouldn’t put a dent in our weekend plans. I hate feeling like I’ve let people down.

But as the hours went by, none of the things I tried worked. My headache became a migraine and by 9am I knew I was going to be in bed for the day.

I laid in that bed for hours, doing nothing but keeping my eyes closed. The sharp pounding in my head kept rhythm with the fast and heavy heart beat in my chest.

I was thankful Brian was off that day to take care of things so I could rest. But I felt terrible that all I could do was lay down and wait for the migraine to let up.

Honestly, I began wrestling with God. Every time I feel like I’ve accepted chronic illness as part of my lot in life, I go through a health flare and wrestle again to accept it. I don’t understand why my body has to struggle so much. That day I was feeling cheated and angry, which I hadn’t felt in a long time.

The headache clearly wasn’t going away, so I changed my prayer and asked God to take my anger instead. I didn’t want to give in to the temptation to distance myself from Him.

He brought Psalm 23 to mind, one of the few passages I have memorized.

1 The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want.

2 He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside still waters.

3 He restores my soul. He leads me in paths of righteousness for His name’s sake.

4 Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for You are with me; Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.

5 You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.

6 Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of the LORD forever.

This is usually the part of the story where I would sum things up nicely with a big bow or a feel-good ending. Maybe say how the headache let up and we enjoyed a fun afternoon. But that didn’t happen. The migraine stayed for 13 hours.

The anger did slowly dissolve though. I couldn’t watch TV or look at my phone because it hurt my eyes too much. So instead I let God work in my heart as He reminded me of promises from His Word.

It takes a lot of faith to hold onto those promises of goodness and mercy when we’re surrounded by the dark. But strong faith grows, in part, by holding on long enough to see those promises come to fruition.

The truth is, most of the time, faith doesn’t come wrapped up in a bow. Sometimes it looks like “blistered hands”, cracked and bleeding from mining in the dark for a truth to hold onto.

Sometimes faith doesn’t look like a sweetly framed, feel-good verse. Sometimes it looks like worn, tear-stained pages of Psalms.

“Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil. For You are with me. Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.”

No, one migraine isn’t the valley of the shadow of death. But three weeks of a severe chronic illness flare honestly made death sound like a welcome alternative for me.

So the promise I clenched today is that He is with me. Here, in my sick bed, He lays.

The sweat on my brow reminded me of the sweat He once had on His.

The piercing pain through my head reminded me of the piercing pain He must have felt as they drove literal nails through his hands and feet.

The sadness in my heart reminded me of the far greater weight He bore in His when He died so that sinners could live.

And the relief I felt when this migraine let up and this season of chronic illness cut me some slack was a small, small glimpse of the relief I will feel in heaven, when all that sin broke is made new.

Because my Savior is not just a suffering Savior. He is a victorious one.

He defeated sin. And death. And sickness.

I partake in suffering; I will also partake in glory. I just have to hold on a little bit longer. He will lead me to green pastures and beside still waters.

He will restore my soul.

The glory that will come after suffering will be infinitely greater than anything this human mind can imagine.

His goodness and mercy have indeed followed me all my days, and He will keep His promise to bring me safely home. Oh to dwell in His house with Him forever!

And thankfully, in my Father’s house,

there is no place for sick beds.

“For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us…” Romans 8:18

©️ Grace Baeten 2024