(Along with the diagnosis of Lupus, comes many unpleasantries. Lupus is a disease of inflammation. Sometimes this affects my joints. Other times, my gut.)
I awoke to the all too familiar pangs of what I commonly refer to as “Lupus gut.” Not having given birth, I call on my past experience as a delivery nurse when I liken it to labor. Waves of intense cramping, followed by bouts of nausea, force me into fetal position as I wait out this latest episode.
As I lie there, curled up into as tight a ball as I can make, a faint “ding” comes through my new smart phone, the one I said I would never buy because I didn’t want to be tied to a phone. I bought it anyway in an effort to make my life as a social media manager a bit easier. The irony of how it now blesses is not lost on me this morning.
“Good morning. How are you?” is the message I read. It comes from a far-away friend. One I have not yet hugged in person, but has become a sister of the heart. A true friend in whom I can confide anything. I am safe knowing I can respond with, “My belly really hurts. Please pray.” I have no doubt she will do exactly that. Fervently.
Time is passing slowly, and I realize I am moaning when my son comes darting into the room. “Momma, are you okay?” I share with him also, about how my belly hurts. This sweet child of mine lays his hands on my back, and begins to pray out loud, “God, I know we don’t deserve healing or forgiveness . . . but please make my mommy feel better.”
In that moment I find comfort amid the obvious discomfort.
Jesus has drawn two people unto Himself today.
Make that three.
Is anyone among you suffering? Let him pray. Is anyone cheerful? Let him sing praise. (James 5:13)
