The struggle is real. For everyone
I’ve been quiet lately. Partly because I’m writing under two other names, and partly because I’ve had a lot going on in my personal life. That’s the part that I want to address here.
Among many other things, I’ve been struggling with jaw pain since June. It came and went at first, and since there was no tooth pain, the dentist thought it was muscular. I have TMJ and I tend toward being a tense person (DUH, right? LOL), so I keep those muscles on their toes. But then about three weeks ago, the pain got to a pretty severe point. It woke me up many a night. My doctor mentioned something called Trigeminal Neuralgia, something not tooth or muscle related at all, but a neurological disorder that is probably one of the scariest things I’ve come across (and I used to be a nurse). Basically, it’s facial pain that can be excruciating, gets worse over time, and never goes away. Those few facts alone make it terrifying. I mean, the pain was overwhelming at times and to think of looking forward to a lifetime of that was…daunting. Horrifying. A little hopeless. And, a few times, a lot hopeless. But here’s the thing. I believe that God allows everything for a reason, and no matter how scary something is, I believe that He will give us grace for it and that He will use it not only for our good, but to bring Him glory. Does that provide comfort at all times? No. We are human. We still have feelings. Down days. Weak days. Hopeless days. But the bottom line is that I DO have hope. I have THE hope. The hope that Jesus died to give me. And I’ve been clinging to that something fierce.
I ended up having a root canal. The endodontist believes that was the cause of the pain, but there’s still a little niggle of fear in me that I’m trying so, so hard to beat down. I don’t have to live in fear. That’s a mindset, like everything else. I truly hope I don’t have TN, but I am praying that whatever happens in my life, now and later, God will help me to do it right. To still be kind and joyful and hopeful and productive. To be a light in a dark, dark world. And if by His grace and healing I DON’T have TN, I can already say for sure that this time and experience and scare has made me realize several very important things. One of which is that everyone around us, everyone we meet or see at the store or spot on the sidewalk, is going through something. Some of them may be in a kind of pain or fear or hopelessness that we won’t ever have to know. And I hope we don’t. But the thing is, they deserve my, OUR kindness. Our compassion. Our sincere words and smiles and any help we can give them. This has stirred up something in me that I hate wasn’t alive to begin with—a deep and profound sympathy for all those who hurt. In their bodies, in their souls, in their hearts. I pray for all those suffering that you find peace and comfort and HOPE. And I pray that if I can bring some kind of ease to your life, that God will lead me to do exactly that. That’s one of the big takeaways for me. I want my life to matter to people other than me. I want to help, to heal, to lighten, to uplift. To do good. To be good. A legacy is a tricky thing, and it’s something we can view all wrong. The kind of legacy that I want to leave is one of hope and love and light, one where people will remember that I helped or offered a kind word or made them feel like everything would be alright. We all need that so desperately. We need it to come to us, but I think we equally need to BE that for others. I want to step outside my own worries and concerns and interests and see others. Really see them. And reach out a hand. To me, that’s how we live a life that matters. That’s the kind of legacy that I want to live.
I know this post is probably a hot mess. It’s really hard to put so much emotion into a short blog post, but I want to make sure to end with this. There is hope. There is always hope. Let’s be love and light and life for each other. Imagine what a better place the world could be if we make loving others, helping others our top priority. It won’t be easy, and I may fail more than I succeed, but I’m going to try. And, Lord willing, at the end of my road, I’ll have succeeded more than I’ll have failed.