Be Still
“Just one more step. Just one more step Anna and you’ll be home”. This is what I keep repeating myself after every session at the hospital. I go to the hospital 3 times a week for 4 hours. “You just need to get to the car. I know you can do it. Okay, now you’re sat down, you can breathe. The first part is done. Now, I know your head is spinning but you need to get to the house gate then you’ll be fine. Then the 3 sets of stairs to get home. I know it’s not easy but you do this every day so you can do this today too. Come on Anna, you can do this. All you must do is get to the house door. It’s not easy but keep pushing. Hold on to the railing if you must. You literally want to give up and sit on the stairs but keep going. I know your body is at its lowest and it’s at the weakest it can ever be but keep going. Ok. Thank God cause you’re at the door now. You just need to get to your room. Just one more step and you’ll be on your bed. YES! YOU MADE IT! You can finally fully breathe. Well done, Anna. You did it again”
You would think this is the conversation someone is having while getting to the top of mount Everest. Nope, just the conversation I have with myself after every dialysis treatment at the hospital. But once I can get to that bed, once my body can finally lay down, I can fully exhale, thanking God for helping me make it through yet another day. But there, in the stillness of my room, awareness comes rushing in. I’m aware of what I just went through for the past 4 hours. I am aware of what I saw and what I heard in that hospital hall surrounded by 70–90-year-old men and women. Aware of the excruciating pain and suffering that only people subject to this treatment eventually become accustomed to. And so, I cry. I fully cry. Every time. All the pain goes into those tears. I really cry. Not too loud cause my parents, already hurt by what this sickness has done and still does to their first child, will not bear to hear me. They don’t say it especially my dad, but I know. But loud enough so that God can hear me. And I ask myself why. What I possibly could have done wrong to deserve this kind of punishment daily. Why I must go through this suffering every day. Why I get to see others in pain and not be able to do anything about it. What is the point? What is the actual point? And in the midst of my tears, when I have no more tears left to cry, all I hear is: “My grace is sufficient for you”. I’m shaken awake. Suddenly, the nausea and light headedness cease, at the sound of these words. I lift my head up and look around the room and I wonder where He is. But it’s crazy cos He was there the whole time. And He repeats Himself: “My grace is sufficient for you”.
Paul was going through excruciating pain as the result of doing God’s work but more simply, just being human. In 2 Corinthians chapter 12 verse 1-10, he talks about the amazing revelations he received from God. And for him not to become proud he was given a thorn in the flesh. We don’t know if it was physical or spiritual or both, but it was there. And 3 times he begged God to take it away, but God’s answer wasn’t “yes, let’s take it away” but the same answer he gave me. “My grace is all you need. My power works best in weakness.” And Paul’s answer wasn’t a debate with God on how this answer makes sense or is going to help him deal with the situation but this: “So now I am glad to boast about my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ can work through me. That’s why I take pleasure in my weaknesses, and in the insults, hardships, persecutions, and troubles that I suffer for Christ. For when I am weak, then I am strong.” (vv 9-10).
I’m not here to tell you, whatever you’re going through just deal with it or be happy cos you think God expects you to be happy. Nor I’m going to force you to believe and pray 24\7 against the demons causing your pain. All I’m asking you to do is to embrace this scripture: His grace is truly sufficient. And He loves you.
Be still. Don’t fret, don’t cry, don’t argue. There is a time and place for that. And He understands that. But after all the tears, the anger, the tantrums, be still and know that He is God (Psalm 46:10).
We all want God to take away the pain from us. We are fine with suffering for a bit but then we want to be free. It’s like “ok, it’s enough God.” But Jesus went through much worse compared to anything we are facing or will ever face. So, if our Lord and Saviour went through all that, what do we think is going to happen to us? If He faced suffering, then we must face the same. If He went through betrayal, then we must know it might happen to us too. If He faced loneliness, then who are we to think we are above it?
Nobody knows what I go through every day. Nobody knows what it means to feel so physically sick and weak in my body that sometimes you actually wish not be alive. Nobody knows the emotional pain I experience when I watch and hear people in excruciating pain every other day. I wouldn’t wish this even on my worst enemy.
I’m not a negative person and I don’t like sharing my struggles not due to a perfectionist instinct (like it used to be in the past) but because I just don’t want to bring people down. Life is already hard as it is, so I don’t want to contribute to making it worse for anyone. But I read an important quote somewhere: “People are always more encouraged when we share how God’s grace has helped us through our weaknesses than when we brag about our strengths.” This is why I’m doing this. It’s not easy for me because I prefer to experience my pain on my own without having to share with anybody else. But Paul says something in 2 Corinthians 1:6 (b) - “For when we ourselves are comforted, we will certainly comfort you. Then you can patiently endure the same things we suffer”. The same grace I receive from God through my suffering, I can give to you through your suffering. And we will both be comforted.
I don’t have all the answers. I don’t know why God has allowed whatever has happened or is happening to me or to you to take its course. But I know that everything will work together for my good because I love Him, I always have, and I always will (Romans 8:28). He says to give thanks IN all circumstances not FOR all circumstances. He doesn’t expect you to thank Him for the suffering but amid it recognising that somehow, someday, He will use it for YOUR good. How do I know this? Because He said so and I take His word for face value. So, no matter what suffering you are going through, know that you are never alone. He is Emmanuel – God with us. God with you. God with me. Always and forever. Instead of asking Him “why me?” ask Him “what do You want me to know?” The answer will shock you. Trust Him. He knows what He’s doing.
Be still,
Anna Noelani.