I’ve heard my whole life that “life is not fair”. And that’s very true. It’s not fair that some people die before they’re 20. It’s not fair that some people are more successful and good fortune just falls into their laps. It’s not fair that some people are on the verge of poverty due to no fault of their own.It’s not fair that some people have 5 kids while some struggle to have 1. Life isn’t fair. Sometimes we stare into the face of these kinds of situations and just wonder why and how and for what purpose.
As a young lady who has been told their whole life that life isn’t fair, I’ve always sought to find some kind of explanation for unfair circumstances. Maybe somewhere down the line, it was someone’s fault. Maybe someone somewhere dropped the ball or was careless and caused the circumstance. Maybe they’re lazy or crazy or work too hard. Maybe God has a lesson to teach them. Maybe there are people that will benefit from their trial.
But what about when the trial or hard thing is happening to me?
What about when the hard thing is an illness that has altered your way of life?
What about when you’ve prayed, others have prayed, and there is still no relief?
What about when you’ve embraced the illness and tried to let it be used for good?
What about when every option has exhausted itself until all I can see is the injustice of chronic illness glaring right back at me?
Sometimes, life just isn’t fair and there isn’t anyone to blame. There is no heart change, or miracle drug. There is no-one that needs to hear your story. There is nothing that can take away or fix what is wrong. That is one of the hardest things for this proactive, “fix-it” person to realize.
I think to myself even as I type this this there has to be something that I can do to make it go-away. If I pray harder, maybe it will get better, or if I become completely content maybe God will take it away.
But there isn’t anything written anywhere about how God owes me a healthy body. There isn’t anything written anywhere about how if I pray ___ many times God owes me good health.
So here we are. Another month, another week, another day, and while someone somewhere might be getting healed or becoming an inspiration, I’m still here hurting, waiting, hoping, and praying. Not even necessarily for healing anymore. But for grace. Grace to get through the day in one piece. Grace to do what I CAN do, even though it seems like nothing or isn’t comparable to what everyone else can do. Grace to be okay where I’m at, and grace to admit that I’m not okay when I need to do that too.
Chronic pain is hard and life isn’t fair. I’m done trying to hit the Escape Key. I’m here to accept it, embrace, and live it.