migraine

Migraine Phase Four | Postdrome

~ Heather Davis ~ 2 Comments

And he said to them, “Why are you afraid, O you of little faith?” Then he rose and rebuked the winds and the sea, and there was a great calm.

Matthew 8:26

If the prodrome is the seething fury of the storm to come and the headache phase is the tempest, the postdrome is the hazy brightness in a summer storm’s wake. Sure, there’s a bit of vegetal wreckage strewn about. There may be dark clouds menacing the horizon and possibly a distant rumble or dim stab of lightning, but the worst is over.

That’s not a bad description of the prodrome. It reminds me of those midsummer Tennessee thunderstorms that rage and leave behind a humidity so thick you can taste it. The prodrome leaves me feeling a sort of pregnant emptiness, as if my mind were full of static and my limbs full of lead. There’s little to no pain, save the occasional aftershocks, but things just aren’t quite working again, either.

It’s not an interesting stage, and there isn’t much to say about it. Before I knew the proper term – and honestly, even to this day – I’d always referred to this as a migraine hangover.

It’s here in the wretched meh-ness of the postdrome that I often find myself marveling at the incredible goodness of a God who would wrap Himself in this mess on purpose, just to rescue a handful of rebels who will see Him, understand the unfathomable depths of His love, and find rest that nothing on earth can provide.

And the men marveled, saying, “What sort of man is this, that even winds and sea obey him?”

Matthew 8:27

Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.

Jesus of Nazareth – Matthew 11:29

Migraine Phase Three | The Attack

~ Heather Davis ~ 2 Comments

It is good for me that I was afflicted, that I might learn your statutes. The law of your mouth is better to me than thousands of gold and silver pieces.

Psalm 119:71-72

There’s not much funny about this phase. However, I can’t say there’s nothing good about it. But first, a couple of details: the attack or headache phase is the most straight-forward. It’s <drum roll> a headache!

But it is not just a headache. A migraine is a very distinct kind of headache, usually (but not always) one-sided with a pulsing, pounding, or throbbing quality. I used to liken the early sensation to a gong being rhythmically and silently struck behind my left eyeball, although that probably only makes sense if you’ve ever been close enough to a gong to feel the vibrations in your teeth – or if you happen to have migraines similar to mine.

Of course, medication helps in varying degrees, but without medication (and sometimes even with it ) there’s a lot that goes on.

Besides head pain, this phase also comes with a complement of varied and sometimes bizarre symptoms. Nausea, vomiting, confusion, fatigue, and sensitivity to light and sound are common for most migraineurs. And when I say nausea, I mean that you feel like you’re going to vomit if you move even an eyelash, you do vomit if you move even an eyelash, and you pray you can vomit in a dark, quiet place or else the pain quadruples (and if your stomach does rebel, the cool tile of the bathroom floor seems a perfectly sensible place to ride out the rest of the storm. After all, any attempt to exit the necessary room would only bring you back).

Aside from the typical complement of migraine headache symptoms, my personal little collection includes facial pain, muscle spasms in my neck or upper back, and a sensation that my heart is pounding along with an ability to hear or feel it pound in my left ear. In addition, my husband always tells me I feel feverish but I never have a fever. There’s also a kind of weird altered consciousness that I couldn’t describe if you asked me to – just a sense of everything being ever-so-slightly off.

I said earlier that the prodromal phase is the longest, but that’s only true when medication works. An unmedicated episodic migraine headache can last anywhere from four to 72 hours.

Then there’s chronic migraine.

For nearly a decade of my life, I had chronic migraine and “status migrainosus,” meaning a migraine that never really went away. You heard that right – a years-long headache that waxed and waned but never disappeared. And yes, it came with all of the above symptoms mixed in with prodromal and postdromal symptoms in a kind of general stew of unwellness; a sort of ouroboros of illness.

It was impossible to sort out, and much more than just a headache. But medication helps, and I literally praise God for triptans and for giving human beings the ability to concoct medications!

But let me circle back to my second statement of this post: there are good things about the headache phase.

It was during a medication-resistant migraine as I lay in a darkish room with my arm draped over my eyes that I first really grasped what the Lord Jesus did for humanity.

The thing is, I rebelled against my Creator, mocked Him, mocked His people, and tried to set myself up as my own little deity. For this, I deserve annihilation. Pain is a mercy, when you think about it, because pain is a signal that there’s something wrong. And if you deserve to be unmade, pain is a slap on the hand. Even after surrendering to the Lord, I fall short of holiness every day. Even my very best deeds are tainted by selfishness. If I may be brutal in my candor, I have become keenly aware of my own thirst for reciprocity or recognition and I would love to be free of it. I am far from selfless.

But the entire earthly life of Jesus exemplified selflessness. He did not deserve pain; He didn’t even deserve to don this moist and malfunctioning mess of meat, bone, nerve, and vessels we call a body.

The One through Whom all things were created didn’t deserve to submit to the humiliation of becoming an infant; of being hungry or thirsty or cold or any of the unpleasantness that comes of being human. And He most certainly did not deserve to have the eternal fellowship with the Father severed by taking on the foulness of my sin – not to mention the sins of the entire world – and endure an excruciating death devised by the twisted mind of His own creation.

Yet He entered into sorrow and anguish to pay the cost of all our sin in order that we could be free from it and once more enter into the Divine Presence by donning the righteousness of Jesus to cover our shame. Because of this, I have found a sweetness in my suffering and a unique fellowship with my Lord in pain.

Because of what He endured for me, I am even able to thank Him for the pain that helped me understand a little bit more. It is good for me that I was afflicted.

Migraine Phase Two | Aura

~ Heather Davis ~ Leave a comment

Have you not known? Have you not heard? The LORD is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He does not faint or grow weary; his understanding is unsearchable. He gives power to the faint, and to him who has no might he increases strength.

Isaiah 40:28-29

Woah! Who changed the settings on gravity?

Were you aware that dizziness can be a part of migraine aura? Roughly a quarter of migraine sufferers, typically called migraineurs, experience aura around 20-60 minutes before the headache begins. Those who do get auras, don’t get them all the time.

And if you wondered if yours truly has an aura, the answer is: sometimes. I might have dizzy spells shortly before the headache starts. Other times, I see wavy lines around everything, kind of like the underwater effects from Aquaman sans dramatic hair flips and tattoos. But the strangest form of aura only occurs when the headache to come is going to be a doozy: my hands shake.

Yeah, it’s a little weird. This happened once in Grand Central Station as I chaperoned a bunch of sophomores on a field trip. They were sitting around a table eating lunch while I struggled to open the migraine rescue meds with shaking hands. They all stared at my fumbling fingers with wide eyes while I muttered, “Just a migraine coming. Nothing to worry about.”

I think my daughter’s nonchalance convinced them more than my words.

Whenever I do experience an aura, at least it’s clear what’s coming. It isn’t enjoyable, but it IS a reminder of my dependence on God. I may become dizzy and faint, but He never does. My body malfunctions; He does not. And even when I know that pain lies around the corner, He is the One who gives me the strength to endure and the peace to trust Him through it.

Anyway, when the aura occurs, it’s short – and so is this post.

Migraine Phase One | Prodrome

~ Heather Davis ~ 4 Comments

But now thus says the LORD, he who created you, O Jacob, he who formed you, O Israel: “Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you.

Isaiah 43:1-2

You know those cartoon characters walking around with their own personal rainclouds? I imagine a similar scenario for myself during the prodromal phase of migraine—except in place of a cute little raincloud, a Category 5 hurricane dogs my steps, turning innocent actions like removing eggs from the fridge into preternatural disasters. That’s my typical presentation. Less often, I feel good during the prodrome. Like really, really good. Skipping-around-singing, “On Top of the World” like-a-lunatic good. Which isn’t so bad until the moment I realize what’s coming…

My personal hurricanes typically last for around 12-48 hours, though rarely they hang on for thee full days. Thankfully those times are cut short or nothing breakable in my home would survive. This is usually the longest phase of migraine for me, and this will be the longest of the migraine posts in honor of June as Migraine Awareness Month. Bear with me. 😉

Other than epic klutziness and breakdown of anything resembling hand-eye coordination during the prodrome, I also enjoy a failure to recognize spatial relationships. For example, I might take a drink and place my water bottle almost – but not quite – on my desk.

Aphasia often drops in during the prodrome, too, along with difficulty concentrating. Words and thoughts get twisted up between brain and tongue, or they careen around my skull like insane and highly caffeinated squirrels who refuse to work together, or they get lost entirely.

Though frustrating, aphasia is excellent at keeping my pride in check. In fact, sometimes my pride is so embarrassed by the rhetorical ruin that it moves out for a time and pretends not to know me when we bump into one another in the market.

Aphasia in Living Color

There are also less tangible symptoms: a sense of being utterly despised and rejected by everyone, including God, or an irrational desire to commit acts of murder most foul on inanimate objects. Luckily, my brain has already peaced-out by this time and I can neither find an appropriate tool for the job nor remember what the job was – or even what a tool is, for that matter.

Then there’s the mysterious (to me) quality of voice my husband detects as easily as one might detect a smallish pachyderm enjoying a snack in one’s kitchen; an elephant entirely undetectable to yours truly. He describes this vocal quality as sounding panicky. At which point, I mentally describe him with a few choice words, incensed at his insensitivity.

Alas, that too is a prodromal symptom.

This is a bare sampling from the grab bag of migraine prodrome symptoms, but the list can extend into some pretty strange realms. Pounding heart, unslakable thirst, feeling warm to the touch – you get the picture.

Despite being mostly painless, I dislike the prodrome most because it is the phase where I find it hardest to cling to God. But praise Him! By His grace, these are the times I realize (in retrospect) HE is clinging to me.

The only saving grace of prodrome is that in the thick of this howling and chaotic neurological cyclone, I have most often heard His still, small voice. He does not speak to me every time, but in the season when my migraines were more regular the US Mail, I heard His voice more often as well.

And what a wonder to know – really know – that the One who stilled the storm on Lake Tiberias so many years ago is the same One who holds me in the midst of a storm that causes me to lose my grip on everything.

And he awoke and rebuked the wind and said to the sea, “Peace! Be still!” And the wind ceased, and there was a great calm. He said to them, “Why are you so afraid? Have you still no faith?”

Mark 4:39-40

If you’ve made it this far, I hope you’ve learned and maybe had a laugh. But mostly, I pray that whether you suffer from migraine or not, you will come to know and love my Lord. He knows and love you already. If you belong to Him, nothing can take you from His hand, no matter how strong the storm or deep the darkness. Trust me on this.

My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they will never perish, and no one will snatch them out of my hand. My Father, who has given them to me, is greater than all, and no one is able to snatch them out of the Father’s hand.

John 10:27-29

Living in the Eye of the Storm: A Migraine Story

~ Heather Davis ~ 6 Comments

Though the fig tree should not blossom, nor fruit be on the vines, the produce of the olive fail and the fields yield no food, the flock be cut off from the fold and there be no herd in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the LORD; I will take joy in the God of my salvation.

Habakkuk 3:17-18

Hello friends. I’ve been out for a while, and I’m afraid I’ll be out for quite some time to come. Though this may be my last entry to WordPress for many weeks, there’s plenty here to look at. Feel free to browse my archives. Look around. Explore. Even comment – I’ll answer if and when I can.

It’s been quite a few weeks here at the Davis household. This past Saturday saw an epic storm with damaging winds and a deluge which caused flooding on the already-soggy ground.

In apparent sympathy, my body decided an epic migraine was just the thing, and I partially woke in the middle of the night – enough that I was aware of pain but not enough to get up and take the appropriate meds. It wasn’t until around 9 am that I finally had the sense to add a Toradol injection to the triptan and then, ah! Sleep…

Meanwhile, my unexpected nap came in the middle of a remodeling project we began the day after Christmas. Room by room, we moved furniture, ripped out carpet, and laid new flooring upstairs. One room received a total makeover. Another got a fresh coat of paint and a few unexpected repairs. But while I remained down for the count, my house looked like this:

Ah, construction!

We still have bare subfloor in spots.

On the second day of the new decade, my poor daughter totaled a vehicle. Thank the Lord, she was unhurt but we are now down to 2 vehicles, one of which is 15 years old and leaks coolant.

The girls’ school is 30 minutes’ drive south and my husband’s job is 45 minutes’ drive north (on a mythical zero-traffic day), so our time and logistics just got interesting.

On the same day as the truck’s demise, your favorite klutz (that would be yours truly, aka me), tested gravity outside the ginormous leaky vehicle and scored spectacular bruising and scraping on her left arm and ribcage, evidently straining the intercostal muscles on the right in the process.

I’m healing up well but I still can’t sleep on my right side. Which, of course, made the waking-up-in-the-middle-of-the-night migraine thing more festive.

And all that to say… I’m doing fantastic! I’m serious. Really, truly good. I’ve had such joy, such peace, and such … I don’t even know. It’s been a few amazingly wonderful weeks. God is good. It doesn’t matter what is going on around me or even what’s going on with my poor old body. God is Majestic. Awesome. Perfect. Oh, how I love Him!

And He’s done some really great things in the midst of this mess.

  • I’ve been able to confess a parental sin and repent. You see, the teen was driving our second-most-valuable vehicle because I had originally needed the seating capacity of our clunker for cross country season. But when it was over, I pressed the matter a bit then let it slide. My bad. She should have been in the oldest car. Lesson learned.
  • My kids are getting a taste of making do and compromise.
  • The family is practicing humility and love in the midst of all of this.
  • I’m given the opportunity to read through the Bible chronologically once more, but this time with an online discussion group of friends who just can’t get together often because of schedules or distance.

And there’s so much more.

I literally feel as if I’m living in the eye of a storm. The whole world rages and fumes all around me. Destruction and chaos roar past, yet I feel calm. At peace. Joyful.

God has provided in such neat ways. As of Monday, I’ll be working full-time to fill in for the incomparable Ms. J at our school while she has back surgery. It’s temporary, but it will certainly keep me busy for a few weeks. It’s also about the only job I could take with the vehicle situation, so thanks for that, God!!

And I’m still planning on finishing my book. Tennis season starts soon. And spring play practice. The house is a mess. I’m behind on my Greek and need to be in the Word in Hebrew, too. But still I am at peace and full of joy.

You see, this isn’t my home. It’s my appointment – my position, if you will, and I will be the best steward I can of the work God gives me to do, writing, parenting, and all of it.

Ultimately, however, my Home is with Him. Someday He will call me there and I will go with great excitement. Until then, I will continue to serve Him here with near-equal excitement to see His hand at work in the good times and in the bad.

Where He calls, I will go with enthusiasm and good cheer. Even into the midst of the storm.

And he [Jesus] said to them, “Why are you afraid, O you of little faith?” Then he rose and rebuked the winds and the sea, and there was a great calm.

Matthew 8:26

Migraine and Forgetfulness

~ Heather Davis ~ Leave a comment

Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth.

Colossians 3:2

It’s been a very long time since I wrote a migraine post, so today’s the day. My migraine journey is intertwined with my walk with the Lord, so I can’t really write about one without the other.

Things have been better. One of the newer anti-CGRP prevention medications, Emgality, has cut my headache days down to half or less. What’s more, it also helps with the other, non-headache symptoms such as dizziness, brain fog, and the like.

You see, migraine is not just a really bad headache. It’s actually a neurological illness. Because of this, migraine is a full-body experience that begins before there’s even a slight twinge of pain and ends long after the pain has faded into oblivion (often taking your ability to cognate with it!).

It isn’t just the head and brain that are affected, however. The GI system is often in play, and some people experience numbness or tingling on one side of their body or in their limbs. You can click this link to find out more information.

Lately for me, dizziness has been one of the most alarming warnings of an impending migraine attack. It’s getting bad enough that I no longer climb up on stools or high places without good support because I never know when a dizzy spell will strike.

Thankfully, like I said earlier, Emgality has cut my headache days down to about half. It’s also made my rescue meds actually work much of the time (they weren’t even working before), and has decreased the aphasia and some of the brain fog.

However, half of 30 days is still 15. I’m a long way from well, but you’d be surprised how exciting it is to just have those 15 days back! Even if a good portion of them is still occupied with the prodromal or postdromal phase of a migraine, at least I have more functionality than I have in years past.

Recently, I was tested for celiac disease, which meant I had to eat wheat for several days before the blood draw. The addition of wheat to my diet brought back the persistent daily headache, so I am keenly reminded of how unpleasant the constant, nagging pain can be. It made me so much more thankful for where I am now!

My prayer, though, is that if the migraine situation should continue to improve and the attacks become less and less frequent, I pray I will never forget the lesson. I especially pray that I will never forget my utter dependence on God.

We humans do have a tendency to forget Him when things are humming along nicely.

“And when the LORD your God brings you into the land … with great and good cities that you did not build, and houses full of all good things that you did not fill, and cisterns that you did not dig, and vineyards and olive trees that you did not plant—and when you eat and are full, then take care lest you forget the LORD, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery.

Deuteronomy 6:10-12

And yet, it’s when things are humming along nicely that we should be praising Him louder, filled to bursting with gratitude.

That’s what He has been working in me lately. Gratitude. Entering His courts with thanksgiving. Setting my mind on Him and not on earthly things – whether good or bad. And again, thanksgiving and gratitude and praise.

For migraine or no, good times or bad, God is good, and He is worthy of all our praise!

Lord and Father, teach our hearts to love You more and more. When things of this life are good, let us set our minds on You and not forget You. When life throws us a curveball or even pelts us with clod of dirt, teach us to set our minds on You still, always giving thanks in every circumstance for the glorious hope we have in Christ Jesus our Savoir, amen.

Wisdom Seeker: Day 1

~ Heather Davis ~ 13 Comments

After a month of bloggy silence, I’m back in action. My plan? To blog through the Proverbs. One brief post a day for the next 31 days. Not a bad way to start the school year, huh? Well, we shall see. Migraine still steals far too many days from me, but I’m giving it a go!

But before I get into today’s meditation, I want to mark this day as an odd one for me. As is my habit for the last 13 years, today – August 1 – is my new year.

But for the first time in that 13 year period, I’m not actually homeschooling anyone. My youngest is entering her 3rd year of private school, and my part-time blonde daughter graduated in May. So it’s a new year in several ways.

Enough about me: on to the Word!

Proverbs 1

Let the wise hear and increase in learning, and the one who understands obtain guidance… The fear of the LORD is the beginning of knowledge; fools despise wisdom and instruction.

Proverbs 1:5, 7

So let’s begin with the fear of the Lord. What a perfect way to begin a year – or a month, or a day, or even a new moment! That proper fear of the One who made you and who could unmake you, if He chose – that is the beginning of knowledge.

As I read through this first chapter today, I can’t help but note the heavy implication that underlying the pursuit of wisdom is the inclination to be teachable.

Trust a former homeschool mom in this: if a person already believes they know it all, there’s little you can do for them. Any engaged parent can tell you the same. Perhaps for this reason, the last portion of the chapter – verses 20-33 – really grabbed me this morning.

Note the frequency of some form of the word reproof. If we are very honest, not many of us enjoy being reproved. It stings the old pride, doesn’t it? However, by not accepting the reproof of God, we are only managing to be mulish fools, stubbornly set on our own way.

Note the similarity between the words of two of my favorite authors:

“There are only two kinds of people in the end: those who say to God, ‘Thy will be done,’ and those to whom God says, in the end, ‘Thy will be done.’ All that are in Hell, choose it.”

C. S. Lewis

Certainly, Solomon says as much, though in different words:

Because they hated knowledge and did not choose the fear of the LORD, would have none of my counsel and despised all my reproof, therefore they shall eat the fruit of their way, and have their fill of their own devices.

Proverbs 1:29-31

If we reject the fear of God and the wisdom and knowledge that comes of surrendering to Him as the only One who really does know what He is doing, then all that is left is for us to have our own way.

And if I’ve learned nothing else in my 45 trips around the sun, I’ve learned that my own way is all too often misinformed by my tricky emotions or selfish inclinations. To be honest, I’ve had my fill of my own way, and I’d rather not, thanks. I’ll take the Way of the Lord instead.

Before I go, I need to note that some may point out the last verse of Proverbs 1 as contradictory to the truth:

“…but whoever listens to me will dwell secure and will be at ease, without dread of disaster.”

Proverbs 1:33

I’ve heard the argument. What about those who are martyred for the cause of Christ? Or what about Christians who are poor, who are sick and don’t get well, who suffer horribly through their lives?

A slick person could even point to my chronic migraine as a situation which gives lie to that promise. So what gives?

Perspective.

For those of you who haven’t yet tasted and seen that my Lord is good, I can only offer you my perspective. You see, the promises of security and safety are not necessarily applied to the 80-odd years spent on this ball of rock in a constantly aging body of animated meat.

The promise for those who trust in the Lord – in the sufficiency of the sacrifice of His Son, Yeshua and in the new life offered through His death and resurrection- that promise is not just for a handful of decades.

It’s forever. For eternity. Time so long that the worst of your troubles today will only be recalled as a dim and distant memory before you’re even a fraction of the way in.

It’s eternity with Him, and His presence is what makes it good. Because He is good. And this girl? Well, I love this creation and all my people, but I honestly can’t wait to begin my real life after this bag of bones has returned to dust…

You make known to me the path of life; in your presence there is fullness of joy; at your right hand are pleasures forevermore.

Psalm 16:11

Ebb and Flow: A Migraine Story

~ Heather Davis ~ 17 Comments

Oh, taste and see that the LORD is good! Blessed is the man who takes refuge in him!

Psalm 34:8

I haven’t written a migraine post since this year began, and since I’m on a brief hiatus and am actually typing these words several days before you read them, I thought now would make a good time for an update.

I’ve been on Ajovy, one of the new anti-CGRP migraine prevention meds, since mid-December. I’ve also weaned off of amitriptyline and divalproex, two of my other preventatives (which weren’t really preventing anything except weight loss and… um, other things I’ll spare you from). I’ve also had a single treatment of Botox.

And things have been… OK.

February was amazing. I only had 11 headache days, not a single one of which went above a 4 on my pain scale of choice – at least after I took the rescue meds. In fact, the rescue meds actually worked and completely knocked out the oncoming migraine. I thought we’d found the combo for sure.

Then March came in like a lion, so to speak, and it hasn’t been as lovely. With a day and a half to go in the month, my current count is 22 days affected by headaches, some of which were full-blown migraines ranking between 6 and 8 with rescue meds, many of which lasted for more than a single day.

So much for the winning combo. But it’s still better than 30 headache days, so I’ll claim it as a victory nonetheless.

But you know what? God is still good. He is still sovereign, and I refuse to let mere pain make me forget that. Even without migraines, pain is just a thing I deal with. It’s a part of my life; an expectation. A back injury at the age of 12 and early onset of arthritis-like changes in my 20s ensured that.

And with migraine, well. It’s just a thing. Avoid what triggers I can, deal with what I can’t avoid.

As an aside, it cracks me up when I’m asked how many times I went to the emergency room for my migraines. Why on earth would I do that? I know what the pain is, and I know how little can be done for it. I already have the ER treatments in my medicine cabinet, so the last thing I want to do is be add being poked and prodded amid the craziness of a hospital ER to my misery. Heck, I didn’t even go to the ER for meningitis until the third day of zero food or fluids…

But back to my point.

Pain is transient. Not fun, but not worth getting worked up over.

You see, my hope does not lie in a pain-free existence on earth, nor is my joy found only on low-pain days. I’ve tasted small sips from the Fount of Living Water and seen that He is good. More than anything, I long to drink deeply of this Living Water and be fully refreshed, and I know I will be someday.

Pain will end. Suffering will cease. But not just because my body dies. It ends because now – while I labor on in this broken body on earth – I have surrendered myself to the Lordship of Christ over my life. He is my King. He is my Master, and I am no longer my own. I belong, completely and utterly, to Him.

In my little life, I’ve had a sip from the cup of God’s wrath and from the cup of Living Water. One is bitter; one is sweet. Both are enduring. The amazing thing is that He sets before each of us both cups. We get to choose the one we drink from.

As for me, I choose to serve the Lord. Even in pain.

A New Year Invitation

~ Heather Davis ~ 12 Comments

Thus says the LORD: “Stand by the roads, and look, and ask for the ancient paths, where the good way is; and walk in it, and find rest for your souls…

Jeremiah 6:16a

I rang in the New Year with a migraine.

But I rang it in after a leisurely morning in the Word of God. I also rang it in at midnight with my husband and all three kids present, including our almost-18-year-old who went out to see some friends and came back in time to toast in the New Year with our family tradition: sparkling grape juice for them and water for this old girl.

So I managed to be awake(ish) at midnight with a heart full of joy despite any pain. Maybe even joy in defiance of pain. But not only because of my family.

I’m still nursing the same migraine today, medicated enough to keep me out of bed but make my thoughts rather difficult to string together. Still, even today I am filled with joy.

This is an abiding joy which would have been with me even if I’d rung in the New Year alone with my migraine and cut off from medication, family, friends, or any friendly face. It’s a joy I’ve been granted, which I’ve found buried in the Scripture records of ancient paths and growing in me as I’ve followed in the footsteps of those who have traveled the Good Way before me.

For this reason, perhaps, as I read in Jeremiah this morning, verse 6:16 captured my attention. However, there is a bit more to the verse:

…But they said, ‘We will not walk in it.’

Jeremiah 6:16b

My friends, I don’t know what you are facing on the first day of 2019. None of us know what we may be facing tomorrow. In fact, we are never guaranteed tomorrow.

But we have today. We have right now.

Today I invite you to a journey of joy. It isn’t a pain-free journey, nor it is a fool’s journey though you may be called a fool for embarking on it. I invite you nonetheless. Come, ask for the ancient paths where the good way is and find rest for your souls. Walk it, and do not refuse.

I know some of you are dealing with the slow decay of cancer. Others deal with the no less malignant cancer of anger, envy, unforgiveness, self-exaltation, or even the twisted egoism of self-loathing. Leave them by the wayside and find rest for your soul.

Others deal with pain rooted in an unhealed childhood wound. Many have addictions of one type or another, whether to food, entertainment, alcohol, drugs, sex, or something else. If you’ve lived long enough with any of these, you’ve experienced already the law of diminishing returns. The fun is gone, only the endless grind of need remains and grows like its own ruthless, devouring cancer. But you can lay those aside, too. Find the good Way, the One you were meant to be addicted to, and find rest for your soul.

Some have rejected the very idea of God so bitterly you think you can never turn to Him now. People would laugh. He would laugh and refuse to accept you now. He won’t.

You are not the first mocker to find that His way is the one you’ve been seeking after all. Peter, Jesus’s disciple, denied Him at His arrest. I once did, too. But the Lord had mercy on us both. So join me in searching the ancient paths like Peter’s and the paths of our lives today for signs of the God we once denied and like me, find rest for your soul.

The Peter who denied the Lord later received the gift of His Holy Spirit and spoke with enthusiasm to a crowd in Jerusalem. You can read about it in Acts 2. But what is remarkable to me is this: The joy I speak of, the rest for your soul that is promised along the good way, is part of what is called by Paul “fruit of the Spirit.”

…the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control…

Galatians 5:23-24a

This fruit grows along the ancient paths and nourishes those who choose the good way, even when the way is hard and the night seems long.

But even on the darkest night in the midst of the most horrendous pain, joy can still light your way and peace be your comfort because you will never walk the good way alone.

Sufferin’ Succotash

~ Heather Davis ~ 17 Comments

There’s an idea I hear tossed around from time to time among well-meaning Christians which goes something like this:

Christian A is speaking (texting, emailing, whatevering) with Christian B who is in the midst of a painful ordeal, possibly looking for ways out. In a sympathetic effort to console, Christian A says something to the effect that “God wouldn’t want you to suffer like this.”

But frankly, I find this concept puzzling. Why? Well, because I don’t see it reflected in God’s Word. Quite the opposite, actually.

Now before you accuse me of thinking God is a sadist or some grumpy old lightning-bolt thrower, let me state my case clearly: I don’t.

He is, was, and always has been a loving Father who is devoted to what is best for His children. And sometimes what is best for us in the long run (ie-for the next ten zillion years) us difficult or painful right now. In short, sometimes we have to suffer to be prepared for what’s next. God also happens to be the Creator, so his definitions about what is and is not “good” kinda trump ours in every single instance imaginable, but that’s a story for another day.

If I’ve learned nothing else from living half my life for me and the other half for Him, I’ve learned that suffering serves a vital role in the life of a Christian. After all, the Christ suffered, so it follows that if we are to become more Christlike, we will follow His lead.

Or as Paul put it to a young preacher named Timothy several centuries ago:

Share in suffering as a good soldier of Christ Jesus.
(2 Timothy 2:3, emphasis mine)

Indeed, all who desire to live a godly life in Christ Jesus will be persecuted, while evil people and impostors will go on from bad to worse, deceiving and being deceived.  (2 Timothy 3:12-13, emphasis mine)

**Note that persecution = suffering

Again, I do not view God as an angry deity just waiting to catch me in the act of doing wrong. I do, however, understand God’s perspective is so much wider and deeper than mine. Sometimes big benefits in eternity are purchased with a few drops of blood, sweat, and tears for His sake here on earth.

But please note the “for His sake” part of my little soapbox stance. If we suffer for wrongdoing, that’s merely us getting our due. But if we suffer for His Name’s sake, well… one possible solution is to embrace it. Maybe even count ourselves lucky like these guys did:

…and when they [the Sanhedrin – Jewish council] had called in the apostles, they beat them and charged them not to speak in the name of Jesus, and let them go. Then they left the presence of the council, rejoicing that they were counted worthy to suffer dishonor for the Name.  (Acts 5:40-41, again, emphasis mine)

But what about suffering that has nothing to do with His Name’s sake nor with our wrongdoing?  There’s a topic you and I could spend hours one.

I have learned not to trust my own judgment in discerning when I’ve done wrong because I am diabolically clever at lying to myself. Thus sometimes, my suffering is disciplinary and I need to ask my Father where I erred.

Once unintentional sin is ruled out, I’m left with the raw fact that suffering is a product of living in a fallen world.

And my friends, it’s at precisely these two points where hope comes in.

You see, if disciplinary suffering is lovingly administered by our Father, we can trust that it is for our good even if we don’t understand why.  No matter what mistakes our earthly fathers may have made, God is not earthly.  He made the thing, and believe me when I say we can trust Him with all of it. Even the pain.

As for other reasons for suffering, they may not be what we call “fair” (which is really just a monosyllabic way of saying “I don’t like this”). The crucial point about suffering for a Christian is that our suffering is not purposeless. Every single thing which happens to us, good or bad, is being used by God to mold, refine, and shape us into the Image of God as we were meant to bear it.

Not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us.
(Romans 5:3-5)

Christian or not, we will all endure suffering in some measure. But for a Christian, there is a hope beyond suffering and even a reason to embrace it. This is the good news we ought to be sharing even when we are suffering. Even when we suffer for sharing it.

If you are interested in more Scripture-based thoughts about suffering (and have more time than me), feel free to select “migraine” in the drop-down box beneath the heading on the right side of the page. And let’s pray for each other, “knowing that the same kinds of suffering are being experienced by your brotherhood throughout the world.” (1 Peter 5:9)