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After Another Flare Up

A heavy sky over the lake reflects the heaviness of the pain and disability of a flareup.
Photo Credit: Ruthann Dellandrea

(By Rachel Joyce)

The pain recedes, not like a wave

Pulling back from the shore, not

Like the sand slipping through

An hourglass, but like winter

Grudgingly giving way to spring,

Agonizing in its slowness,

Tantalizingly, giving one good day,

Then slapping you in the face

With biting wind and icy flakes

Chilling your hands, numbing

Your soul as you fight off the fear

That it will never end.

Always winter and never Christmas,

All this pain with no hint of glory.

And the heart grows weary of hoping.

And sometimes faith fades to a shadow

As you struggle to find a footing

When yet again, the sadness knocks

Your feet out from under you, and

The unbearable weight of living suffocates

This smoldering flax, almost breaks

This bruised reed, and the sorrow

Cuts so deeply that words fail

To express reality born.

But in the silence of your grief

The still, small voice breaks through,

“You are not alone; I, who fully drank

Sufferings’ appalling cup for you,

Am here with you. You are gently

Cradled in My almighty arms. My love

Is yours, My strength is yours, my grace

Fills every need. So lean into Me.

Sadness cannot swallow you whole

Because you are Mine; hold tight to Me;

Let My peace, My joy, My love sustain You

Until your suffering is eclipsed by glory.


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