Monday, January 31, 2011

Ruthless Trust

I took crazy to a whole new level today.

It all began around 6 a.m., as I dragged my exhausted body out of bed to join Kevin for a training run on the treadmills at the gym. It was too cold for us to go outside, or so we tell ourselves.

I was still half asleep when I got to the gym. I didn’t even have my running shoes on yet. I was holding onto them until the bitter moment when I had to step on that treadmill for a little 6.5 mile jog. I wasn’t happy about this run. In fact, I was mad.

Mad at myself. I felt like a failure on my 16 mile run Saturday. I felt like I should have done better, gone faster, finished stronger. I forgot about this disease and surgery less than 4 months ago. I couldn’t recall the Lupron that has been invading my body for 3 months. None of that reached my mind. Instead, I thought about my weakness, fatigue, and struggling pace.

The despairing thoughts had pulled me under all weekend.  I hated my body for not performing. I hated myself more than the drug and disease that was attacking me. With my trainer mentality, I thought over and over, “No excuses. You can do better”.

So I carried my running shoes into the gym with my socks on. Partly because I have so many blisters and a black toe that hurts like hell with my shoes on. But the main reason was because I didn’t want to run. I didn’t want to hit the feelings of fatigue and failure once again.

I started out normal. I warmed up slow, watching my HR rise higher than ever. But then the anger took over and I got out of control. I started going faster. And faster. And faster. Finally, I was sprinting as fast as I could, while Kevin jogged beside me. He brought up the fact that we were on a “recovery day” with only 6 miles at a light pace. But I ignored the work out that I had written up weeks before.

I sprinted away, ranting about my abnormally high heart rate. Kevin brought up his meal at PF Changs yesterday, and I went a little more crazy. “Do you know how much sodium is in that meal?”. Then I proceeded to look up the nutritional info on my iphone while pounding away the miles. It was ludicrous, really.

After I finished a rough 6.5 miles, I went to the locker room and cried for a good couple of hours. No joke. I just sat there, crying. My bones hurt and my body was numb. Hormones and my ego had gotten the best of me.

It was during my desperate and pathetic state on the locker room floor that I came to my senses. Or rather God opened my eyes to the big pity party I was throwing. He reminded me of Joseph, who was kidnapped and sold into slavery by his own brothers. Then accused of rape by the queen and thrown into prison. It took years, but God’s purpose behind the suffering came to pass. Joseph was delivered from suffering and placed in a noble position, later saving his family and many others from a massive famine.

“Then Joseph said to them, ‘Don’t be afraid...You planned evil against me; God planned it for good to bring about the present result - the survival of many people”. ~Genesis 50:20

Where am I going with this? Obviously, I have not been kidnapped, thrown into slavery, accused of rape, or stuck in prison. But I have been suffering emotionally and physically. I have been going through this crazy hell for what feels like forever. And I have been trusting.

Trusting that God is here with me. That He never left me or forgot me.

Trusting that God still loves me, always. Even when I’m obnoxious and stupid, stomping away on that treadmill.

Trusting that God has a reason for all this pain. A reason for allowing the disease, the drug, and the suffering to break my heart.

"I will not leave you as orphans 
[comfortless, desolate, bereaved, forlorn, helpless]; 
I will come [back] to you.”
~ John 14:18 (Amplified Bible)

He said that he would never leave. 

I’m trusting in those words tonight, tomorrow, and for all time. 


  1. Love you lady... and lvoe this song too!

  2. I just found your blog, but I wanted to tell you how much I appreciate your words and can totally understand your feelings of frustration and anger. I have battled endo for over 10 years. I had my second surgery back in July but have been so frustrated that the so-called treatments just seem to compound the issues that endo creates. I find myself playing the game of "Which is worse?"---the pain and complications from the disease or the horrible side effects from the treatments. I've been really struggling with feelings of hopelessness and helplessness lately, but your words and the words of the song were a great reminder for me of Who is in control and that I am not alone. Thank you for sharing and please know that you are also not alone! This disease can make us feel incredibly isolated, even if we are lucky enough to have a good support system. But the truth is that there are many out there who truly understand and can relate to our pain---we just have to reach out and seek them out. Thanks for reminding me of that! God bless and best wishes for the remainder of the time you are on the Lupron! Stay strong!

  3. I LOVE this song. Thank you. Be strong. I'm praying for you.

  4. Thank you for the support and prayers, LC and SIF.

    Thank you for sharing and for all your encouragement, Nicole. It does help so much to know that we are not alone. I have been blessed by the friendships of many strong women through blogging and facebook. Please keep in touch...and add me on facebook if you can. Keep looking to Jesus, sweetie.