Pride is a funny thing. I don’t mean ‘funny in a “ha, ha!” way, but funny as in fickle—unstable, capricious or worse, according to Webster’s “deceitful.”
Physical symptoms have included significant muscle weakness and an impaired range of motion, making the simple act of lifting my coffee cup to my lips a cause for pause. The ache extends all the way down my arm into my hand, literally cramping my style, making it hard to write (or type). And I’m a writer.
When we tell our brothers and sisters in Christ who struggle with depression, anxiety or chronic pain to “trust in Jesus”, “lean on Him”, “be filled with the joy of the Lord,” or other dismissive responses, we completely invalidate their struggles.
Should we slight them if they need medication to cope, to sleep, to function? I know I have been judgmental in this regard, and for that I repent.
I am happy to say, since my ‘shot in the arm’ my symptoms are much improved and physical therapy starts soon. (Thank you to my daughter for reminding me to share that.)
ON ANOTHER NOTE: Next week I have a surprise–I’m moving to a new home! God willing I’ll have a new blogsite ready to view and read; I hope you’ll follow me over there.