Gritted teeth
..I couldn't pray all the words of the Breakthrough Prayer last night; how can I say God loves us, when my wife is still in agony- still after 18 years- and how her life is reduced to nothing ?
How can I pray for strength as a carer, when I don't want to be one - have never wanted to be one and cannot bear to contemplate this being my life forever ?
It took me to near midnight to read the prayer, through gritted teeth.
I read once that if Christians really believed what they preach, that they would most likely be far too worn-out, exhausted , to do much more than stagger into church on their dirt-encrusted , ragged hands and knees and utter more than a few words.
I am very, very tired. There is so much I want to do, so frustratingly little that I can achieve in reality. Everything I do is done at huge cost to my wife, whose suffering is immense; to myself, who is trying to cope, not least with my self and to our relationship. You tread such a fine line between coping and falling apart ; when you try to live your marriage within the context of Chronic Illness.
So I'm angry with God or not making my wife better. I 'm angry with the rapidly drive-you- insane orthodoxy that denies my wife any treatment, that denies that ME is a real disease; that leaves us in such a hopeless position, that is so actively and aggressively touting its poison these days; to friends !
More than that, worse of all, I am angry with myself for not being a far better carer, better advocate, better campaigner, fighter, husband.
It's only at times like this that I understand , in my guts, what prayer really is; just as a drowning man understands what air is or a thirsty man, water. It's life.
And deep down I know I have never prayed the Breakthrough Prayer as powerfully, as last night. This is how I survive.
How can I pray for strength as a carer, when I don't want to be one - have never wanted to be one and cannot bear to contemplate this being my life forever ?
It took me to near midnight to read the prayer, through gritted teeth.
I read once that if Christians really believed what they preach, that they would most likely be far too worn-out, exhausted , to do much more than stagger into church on their dirt-encrusted , ragged hands and knees and utter more than a few words.
I am very, very tired. There is so much I want to do, so frustratingly little that I can achieve in reality. Everything I do is done at huge cost to my wife, whose suffering is immense; to myself, who is trying to cope, not least with my self and to our relationship. You tread such a fine line between coping and falling apart ; when you try to live your marriage within the context of Chronic Illness.
So I'm angry with God or not making my wife better. I 'm angry with the rapidly drive-you- insane orthodoxy that denies my wife any treatment, that denies that ME is a real disease; that leaves us in such a hopeless position, that is so actively and aggressively touting its poison these days; to friends !
More than that, worse of all, I am angry with myself for not being a far better carer, better advocate, better campaigner, fighter, husband.
It's only at times like this that I understand , in my guts, what prayer really is; just as a drowning man understands what air is or a thirsty man, water. It's life.
And deep down I know I have never prayed the Breakthrough Prayer as powerfully, as last night. This is how I survive.
Sometimes I think this life would be easier if I believed in God, one who cared about us. Other times I think it's easier to be an atheist. There's no one to be angry at for allowing the people we love to be sick. Well, no one except the denialists.
ReplyDeleteAnyway, thanks for writing this. Before becoming a caregiver, I thought I was a good person. Now every day is a test of character, and most days I fail. I don't want anyone else to have to feel this way, but it's comforting to know that I'm not the only one who hasn't been transformed into some kind of saint by someone else's illness.
I extend my empathy to all care givers. My responsibility as a care receiver is to understand that my ME impacts my husband just as much as me though in a different way. We have enough health that we have a little life which is more than some, less than others. But it is not normal. It is not the life we imagined.
ReplyDeleteAnd it will come to a bad end when one or another of us dies.
The ties that bind us are indivisable. We inhabit a world of 2.
I do believe all this is made harder by the fact we are not living in an extended family. Carers need to have a life of their own too but many don't get it.
I do notice how here in Australia the carers lobby has made some headway. I am very happy about this, but I often feel a twinge of anger as there is no sick persons lobby.
In the final analysis, a carer can always walk away. This may be a physical reality, but on an emotional level, it may be an impossibility. Sometimes death is the only way these bonds are broken. Who would ever want to find themselves in such a situation?
We who are in this situation have been stripped of the possibility of distraction which allows most people to get through this sometimes hellish human journey. Our noses are well and truly rubbed in it.
I believe there is an ultimate meaning behind all of this but I allow myself the moments of doubt and disbelief and despair. We are after all only human animals subject as all creatures are to the vulnerability of being enclosed in flesh.
There are times when I have had enough and I am outraged at the extent of the suffering in this world but I will not be beaten by it. God or no God, I will keep fighting until there is no fight left and then I believe I will have done my job. I am sure you will understand this. We were not created to be perfect but to do the best we can and to forgive ourselves when we fall short. Our capacities are not infinite. We can only love others to the extent we can love ourselves.
Thanks for this Greg; I've always struggled with prayer in the face of the extreme suffering of others and, I'm absolutely hopeless at praying for myself. My faith, faltering as it is, has usually enabled me to give thanks for the many blessings that most of us quite simply take for granted - and for that alone I feel grateful.
ReplyDeleteAs an ME sufferer, albeit of only a moderate kind, there have been times when I've struggled through mires of despair and been abusively angry with God.
I'm sure that this passage, of your post, must resonate with all ME sufferers, and their carers:
I 'm angry with the rapidly drive-you-insane orthodoxy that denies my wife any treatment, that denies that ME is a real disease; that leaves us in such a hopeless position, that is so actively and aggressively touting its poison these days; to friends !
Quite strangely, Saturday 15 was the first time I really shared (at the appointed time), albeit falteringly, in the Breakthrough Prayer having just recently read and shared with my wife, your article 'The Praise of Suffering'.
testing
ReplyDeleteGreg, I am not surprised you had to say the prayer through gritted teeth. You and your wife have gone through so much and for so long. Your response reminded me of the format of so many psalms - a heartfelt cry into what can seem nothingness and and then at end a knowledge that God is all we have and he is faithful.
ReplyDeleteFrom where I stand, there is no need to be angry at yourself for not being a better carer, advocate and so on. To me, you do so much campaigning, are a sensitive carer, sticking by your wife and suffering and I applaud you for all you do. Hang in there, trite, I know, but all I can say.