A thorn in my flesh

Some of you know that I've been having issues with my right arm. It all began with occasional, quick stabs of searing pain that ran quickly from my wrist to my elbow. It was unlike anything I'd ever felt, but somehow I knew it must be nerve pain. Its path was so distinct and so predictable every time. And then it came more often. About six months and an orthopedic surgeon later, it's been identified as cubital tunnel syndrome, similar to carpal tunnel but involving the "funny bone" nerve that runs through the elbow. The continued weakness in my hand and the symptoms appearing in the other arm from compensating confirm the need for surgery, lest that weakness become permanent from irreversible nerve damage.

Because of the pain, I'm only able to clean one house per day on my own. (God bless my sweet husband and my new friend Sherry for helping me!) After surgery, I will be out of commission for six to eight weeks. It took a long time to make peace with that. After learning to be the provider as a single parent for four long years, I will need to be provided for. I will have no choice but to sit down and let someone else do for me. The less control I have, the more I see that God has it covered. Which is exactly why I believe He is allowing this affliction.

I noticed in comparing Bible versions that Psalm 147:6 reads this way in the New Living Translation: "The Lord supports the humble, but he brings the wicked down into the dust."  And the Holman Christian Standard Bible says, "The LORD helps the afflicted but brings the wicked to the ground." See how the words "humble" and "afflicted" go hand in hand? Now, I don't know the original word that was used; our English language is so vague while Hebrew and Greek are much more specific. But I do know that affliction can bring great humility. An example of this truth is that God used "a thorn in the flesh"  to keep Paul the Apostle humble. (2Corinthians 12:8)

I forget that my body is made of dust. I am only a jar of clay. (2Corinthians 4:7) The treasure lives inside. I forget sometimes that my body is not who I am. But all of the daily limitations this affliction has imposed upon me reminds me. Every day. Every hour. And when I can't dress myself or do my own hair, when I only have my non-dominant arm for a while,  I will remember every moment. Jehovah Jireh is my provider and my sustainer. Jesus Christ is my Lord. I will be forced to be still and know that He is God. (Psalm 46:10) And more and more, I'm okay with that. It's not just His peace that I seek, or His comfort, or even His healing. It's HIM. That's all. And as long as He walks beside me and holds my hand, I will go wherever He leads.

Father, thank You for this thorn in my flesh that turns me back to You. Thank You that You are my provider. Thank You for those you've sent to help me. Teach me humility, whether it's through affliction or healing, through struggle or victory. Through it all, Your very presence is my reward.

In His faithful love,
Amy


copyright 2010, Amy Wallace