For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope. - Jeremiah 29:11

When I finally allowed my brain to comprehend terms like ‘chronic,’ ‘lifelong,’ ‘disabled,’ and ‘limited,’ the overwhelming emotions I felt included grief and defeat. I didn’t want any of these things to describe me. I didn’t want to believe this would never go away. I have good days where I feel halfway decent and I get this false sense of security that maybe it will last. Then I overdo it and my symptoms come back in full force. This weekend has been a doozy and it has pull me down to a miserable low. I felt horrible Friday afternoon and spent most of the day yesterday unable to get out of bed. Today’s a little better but I still feel like I’m moving in slow motion. These are the days I just want to throw in the towel and I question the Lord’s goodness and purpose for my life. Why me? Why now? What’s the point?

When my health first began to decline, I held out hope for a while that some magic drug would bring me back to my former self. I soon began to realize, however, that even if we found a medicinal solution it could help me manage the cards I’ve been dealt but it wouldn’t be a cure. And finding something that works is a challenge in itself. Either my body will become unaffected by a medication when taken over a period of time or extended usage can cause damage to other tissues and organs. I’m on 17 different meds and supplements right now (yes, 17), and the various pills and dosages have fluctuated more times in two years than I can count on both hands. It’s like being on a constant hamster wheel - I have to keep putting in an enormous amount of effort to scamper in the right direction or I run the risk of slowing down my progress or falling off the wheel altogether. This med management process, combined with the condition itself is downright exhausting. Add in all of the various doctor’s appointments, physical therapies, hospitalizations, tests and procedures and my plate is heaping before I can begin to think about including anything that brings me joy. It’s a lot, I’m not gonna lie.

The picture I’ve painting is specific to my health struggles. What chronic condition do you have in your life? What hamster wheel do you feel you’re throwing every ounce of your efforts at? Yours may be something you’re voluntary subjecting yourself to like attempting to climb your corporate ladder for the sake of a six-figure paycheck or it may be very much uninvited like a failing health or a failing friend. Either way, it’s no way to live if the point of the journey simply ends in this place of hopelessness.

You see, we get stuck in our finite thinking. We, as humans, see a few pieces of the puzzle and think we’ve got the entire picture figured out. Then we settle. We settle for the job that takes us away from everything else that brings us joy, we settle for the diagnosis that takes away every precious drop of energy we possess and we settle for the friend who takes so much from us with no intention of giving anything in return.

We are not called to settle. God may allow circumstances that ground us or change our course of direction, but He doesn’t want the road to stop there. He has a plan. Plans are composed of steps; they are fluid, not stagnant. The Lord is opening some roads and closing others to guide us through the logistics of our unique map to this life. Sometimes we ignore the ‘road closure’ signs, we weave around them in an attempt to go it our own way despite the warnings of danger ahead. Even then, God doesn’t give up on us. He pulls us out of the pothole and gently steers us back in the right direction.

Trust the path where your Father has placed you. It may not be the same location you had your heart set on, but it’s precisely where you’ll flourish. Embrace the scenery in your scenario and fix your eyes on Christ in the midst of the pain. Find the calm in the center of your storm, I promise you it’s there. I know it is because I also know we were made for more than a mediocre existence defined by devastation. A flower can’t survive on sunshine alone. It takes the presence of rain to soften the soil and ignite the process of growth. So, respect your limits, honor your boundaries. move forward in faith and rejoice in the hope of God’s desire to give you a future that will produce glory for His name and peace for your soul. Don’t settle for the lie that you are going down in a sinking ship labeled with defeat. Instead, take a deep breath, roll up your sleeves, prepare to get a little dirty, break through the barrier of doubt, and abide in Christ’s strength as you move forward one step at a time.