Hungry, Hurry and Hope

I’ve started a deep dive into possible treatments for my pain.

A big breath and . . . down I go, deep into the world of pain clinics, physio, acupuncture, surgery and whatever I can get into. I’m hungry, both for popcorn (because it is usually this time of night that one of us makes some) and for pain relief. I called the pharmacist today for another opinion on increasing my pain meds and his answer was “No, you can’t take more than you are”.

Hunger demands satisfaction. Hunger hopes and hunger shouts “Hurry!”

Hunger is also desire. In The Journey of Desire by John Eldredge, I read this today:

To live with desire is to choose vulnerability over self-protection, to admit our desire and seek help beyond ourselves is even more vulnerable. It is an act of trust.

I don’t like this vulnerability, if I’m honest.

Physically, it means that I splay my body out on various examining tables, having my abdomen pushed and prodded, asked the same questions over and over. It takes energy to retell the history of my health and not take it personal when someone questions it or brushes over it lightly. It means undressing over and over. It means showing up in clinics, waiting with others and asking for help with driving because my meds make me dizzy. It requires vulnerability and honesty and . . . energy.

But hunger is also about hope. I may not be able to eliminate pain completely, but I hope I can find a way to bring it down a few degrees, I hope I am listened to, I hope I can improve my care. And then . . . here is where I stop.

The truth is, things may get worse. 😊(insert peaceful face here to remind readers that this paragraph is going somewhere good.) I feel the hunger and I feel the hurry but I’m afraid to hope. I told my acupuncturist this past week that I was coming with half-hope. She laughed, thankfully, What I meant was that I can’t put all my hope in one treatment, or one person, or one method or one future. I can’t. Because none of it is a sure thing.

So what can I do with my hunger, the demand to hurry and find hope?

For me, it is Jesus. Jesus is full-hope! Jesus thinks I’m worthy of love and dignity. Jesus fills up my soul with joy and peace despite what my body is doing. Jesus listens, loves, counsels, comforts, encourages and stays. When all that I want, or hunger for, and have to wait a long time for continues, when my hunger aches in my body and my mind and soul, Jesus reminds me that He is with me. I am never alone. And that, very simply, is hope! (I never knew this to be true until chronic pain entered my life). For this reason, I half-hope all the other treatments and save my full-hope for the One who will forever be with me through this life and into eternity, the One who gives me purpose and joy even now - as I write - in pain.

So as you face your week and feel your own hunger, whatever it might be, consider how you might put your full-hope in Jesus. 💕

Wishing you joy and a deep, deep peace.