Some days, I have come to find out, are better for me then others.
Let's see if the difference between the good and bad make since to.
On my bad days the pain covers my whole body so that it feels like every single bone is being crushed. Bad days mean spasms in my body so bad that they have me thrashing around as if I was having a seizure, despite taking the medicine that is supposed to stop that from happening. A medicine, by the way, that a doctor tried to scare me into thinking that it could kill me if I stopped taking it.
On my good days the medicine does its job and the pain is barely there. I can sleep well and even walk with little to no pain.
On my bad days God seems so far away and I am left wondering where He is or if He is even listening to me.
On my good days the pain hits, or the spasms come or it hurts to simply walk a few feet and I feel His presence and know He's there. He wraps me up in His arms and holds me tight. He cries with me when I send out wordless pleas for help and tells me it's all going to be ok, and that He loves me so very much.
So which days are really my bad days and which one's are my good? I guess it just depends on which one hits me the hardest...
Let's see if the difference between the good and bad make since to.
On my bad days the pain covers my whole body so that it feels like every single bone is being crushed. Bad days mean spasms in my body so bad that they have me thrashing around as if I was having a seizure, despite taking the medicine that is supposed to stop that from happening. A medicine, by the way, that a doctor tried to scare me into thinking that it could kill me if I stopped taking it.
On my good days the medicine does its job and the pain is barely there. I can sleep well and even walk with little to no pain.
On my bad days God seems so far away and I am left wondering where He is or if He is even listening to me.
On my good days the pain hits, or the spasms come or it hurts to simply walk a few feet and I feel His presence and know He's there. He wraps me up in His arms and holds me tight. He cries with me when I send out wordless pleas for help and tells me it's all going to be ok, and that He loves me so very much.
So which days are really my bad days and which one's are my good? I guess it just depends on which one hits me the hardest...
