Noticed

When you’re sick, you enter a high-need zone that freaks a lot of people out. You can’t rely on your own strength and ability to do the simplest of tasks, and this means that those around you are often called to higher levels of responsibility.

When I first got sick, I trusted very few people with the real intensity of my health condition, especially as things worsened and I needed more physical support. I learned to live around my health so no one saw. The wheelchair was my freedom. Living by myself kept others from being burdened by my issues. I wasn’t being self-centered; I had needs that HAD to be met. But I never stopped noticing those I loved. I never stopped feeling close to them, wishing I could do more to show my love for them.

Now, as I’m walking through this treatment again, I’m going through the same thing. Pete has had a couple of rough weeks himself, and I feel helpless to do anything to support him. Piper has the chicken pox and Bredon is cutting four or five molars in his tiny mouth. I’m sitting on the couch trying to relax so that their fights don’t set off spasms in my body. I wait for Pete to bring me food because I get so lightheaded getting up.

I really, really, REALLY don’t want to sound like I’m complaining. This is what IS in my life right now. This, and the morning light that comes in, the air conditioning that keeps us cool, one meal idea and another and another, the minute that was, the next minute coming. We are living right now, and I’m noticing it, noticing it so that I cry when things touch me, hug my kiddos a little closer, breathe a little deeper and a little longer when they need help. This is the best sort of thin place, when the worst is here and you see that and you see the best for what it is too.

I don’t know if I’m showing my love any better now than I did then. I miss reading others’ lives, having energy to comment and invest, miss working solid days. I miss my functionality, but I know that this “worse” is a sign that I am getting better. I hate taking my pills, knowing that even the small reprieves I was getting won’t be coming until this runs its course. But I take them because feeling alive again later is worth a lot of helpless now.

I still see, even if I can’t do anything. I still love, even if it’s stopped up in my heart and pretty helpless to act. The deepest gift to me during this time is the heart-sharing I hardly have energy to return. I have so many in my heart. Do you think that maybe sometimes, the noticing might be love enough?

8 thoughts on “Noticed

  1. Fiona

    I think that the noticing alone, is love enough. More than enough.

    You’re so outward looking and one of the least self-absorbed people I know – when you have every right to be throwing yourself a massive pity party, day after day.

    I’m so tired of inward looking people, that never notice. I think it is a major ailment in today’s world. And yes, even in Christian friends. It hurts my heart.

  2. Joy

    i am learning from you…
    i have always been the do-er, the helper, the one coming to the rescue, helping, because that is/has always been/ what I felt my calling is/was.

    And now, I don’t know what to feel. I want to hide. I do not want to admit how sick I am. I want to get up off the couch, I want to GO. I want to do. I want my body to stop betraying me. I know how profoundly you understand what I am struggling with, and somehow that makes it easier for me to bear…

    The noticing is love enough for me. Knowing that you notice is enough. Knowing that you’ve been walking this journey a heckuva lot longer than I have, and have been much sicker, I listen. I am learning how to deal with chronic illness through you. I hate what this illness has meant for you; what mine has meant for me; but yet, here we are. There is grace here; you help me to find it.

    This has struck a deep chord in me. I don’t feel like I’m forming words right.

  3. Lee Ann

    The noticing, the helplessness, is when God is working deep underground, where we don’t see the seed germinating. But it’s inside; you sense it’s going to burst into bloom one day. I’m excited for you, even if you’re too tired to be. 🙂