Things have been a bit wearing these days. I had a bout with the flu, acute bronchitis (though I found nothing "cute" about it), and am going through a battery of tests to determine the reason for my muscle weakness. Thus, I've missed a couple of weeks of writing for Common Matters. And I suppose, that's a "common matter" for folks like me. I told my husband I feel like a woose. So many people in far worse shape than I are plugging along and managing quite well in the midst of their obstacles and challenges. Then there is me.
Ever had an EMG? I hadn't. It's a test where they stick a bunch of patches on your legs and feet (and then on the arms and hands) and power up a machine that shocks you silly. And as if that isn't enough to drive you batty, the neurologist comes in and sticks needles in your legs and feet and makes you flex your muscles till you feel those needles and it makes enough noise on their machine to give him some information about the nerves that makes you feel like you've lost all nerves and courage. I had the test on the legs yesterday and will have the test on my hands and arms today. I dreaded every second of the one yesterday and had a bunch of folks praying I'd make it through without crying foul and well, just plain crying. God answers the craziest prayers of His people.
Here I was feeling all kinds of wimpy and God gave the go-ahead for me to feel His strength and peace amid the punctures and pain. The technician was funny and kept me laughing as hubby held my hand. The neurologist was equally funny and talked about sports and other mundane matters to try and keep my mind off the torture techniques they were administering to get the information needed to help me deal with my health issues. I kept thinking that what I was going through was nothing in comparison to what the Lord went through to save my sinful soul. Why in the world would He do that? I wondered. Such love, don't you think?
After the test, I felt a few aftershocks to the tenderized nerves. And long about suppertime, it felt like I was having a toothache in my ankles. I took more Ibuprophen and icing my ankle worked magic and I made it through most of the night. Today I decided I better do my best to fulfill my obligation to Venius and get this article out before the doctor and technician started poking my arms and hands and wrists. I can't even imagine what the after-effects will be. Don't think I'll feel much like typing, tweeting and face-booking. I may not even feel like chopping veggies or peeling apples. We'll see. Pain affects everyone differently.
I read where many people would "never ever again" have the tests I'm having. I read that before I had my first test and I mean to tell you, it had me questioning whether or not to go through with the procedure. In the end, I prayed about it and by sheer coincidence (if you don't believe in God's providence), I turned on my computer in the wee hours of the morning because I couldn't sleep and a crafty blogger I follow had sent her latest post to my email box. Her latest blogpost was not about remaking old chairs into benches or how to make tables out of wooden pallets. It was a lovely photo of some trees laced with snow. And on the photo was a verse from Isaiah 41:10. "For I am the Lord your God, who takes hold of your right hand and says to you, Do not fear, I will help you."
So, just so you know, I'm not complaining. I'm sharing all the wimpy weakness of this human woose. And I am so grateful God uses a person I've never met (one who normally writes about Do-It-Yourself projects), to post a photo with a promise from Him that spoke directly to me about my fears and anxiety. Maybe that verse will help you, too. God's pretty faithful in helping folks who trust Him-- and even some who don't. So, now...off to the neurologist for another morning of marvelous mayhem. ~~Copied from Common Matters