Why It Matters: Everything Has A Reason

We've all seen the meme. We all have heard the stereotypes. And we're all tired of having to explain. Having a chronic illness is hard work.

Oh, and we all know the other one, too, right?

Both quite true.... :)

But now, let's be serious. If you are reading this, you probably know the truth about what it is actually like to have a chronic illness. This is because either you have a chronic illness yourself, you are a caretaker for someone who is fighting a chronic illness, or you are very close to someone who is in one of those two positions. 

Life is hard. I've never been a fan of makeup, but from what I've been told, it saves some of us chronically ill people from scaring the world half to death. We're pretty good liars and disguisers of pain. And most of us have learned when it is and when it is not appropriate for us to venture out into society. Maybe its only certain hours, certain days, or during certain times of weather. The ugly truth is: we are not free. We are bound - restricted - against our will. There are events that we would like to attend that simply fall outside of the parameters of our ability to be physically or cognitively present. This is why attending school, holding a job, or sustaining friendships or a relationship can be particularly challenging to those who do battle with bacteria, viruses, and infectious diseases every day. 

Today I want to specifically talk to you about church attendance while you have a chronic illness. The way of life I have been describing is NOT just my reality, dear readers. It is reality across the board for all believers in Jesus Christ battling cancer, fibromyalgia, CFS/ME, lupus, MS, or RA. 

We chronic sickies at times have all felt different... purposeless... useless... lost... sometimes uncared for... defective.

Lies, lies, lies. 

But as these lies set in, it is so easy in our weakened condition for us to give in to them. It is so easy for us to say, "No one will notice if I'm not at church again. It doesn't matter that much anyway." We find it easy to be invisible, just like our illness. For me, invisibility was necessary. It was the path to healing. But I couldn't be invisible to everybody. I needed someone - something. 

Thankfully, I had friends. I had people. You know who you are; you are probably reading this. I had Trial Buddies and I have Drug Buddies and I have a CFS/ME Buddy. I had caring relatives who did all they could. They didn't let this mat of algae wash up on the shore; they splashed themselves up underneath me and supported me. Not all of it was spiritual. A lot of it was physical. My wonderful BFF Hannah came and sat with my while my parents were out at church or other places, and we would watch movies together and explore forbidden, frozen delights such as iced coffee and ice cream. Everyone did what they could. And it was good. I was thankful.

If you are reading this and you have a chronic illness, let me speak to you specifically. Actually, let me change that. If you are reading this and you are in what feels like a never-ending struggle in any area, let me speak to you right now. You are not alone. No matter what the enemy says. You matter. Church matters. The church matters to you, right now. 

Why? Why does it matter? Because you can't be a new humanity on your own. You cannot support yourself, encourage yourself, convict yourself, serve yourself, utilize your gifts for yourself, hold out hope to the world, worship, pray, give, love, or discipline all by yourself. You need others to depend on, rely on, uphold you. That's why God ordained the Church. Not just believers, but believers in the context of local churches, part of a larger global church. 

"You can't be a new humanity on your own" (Professor Abner Chou). What is Abner talking about? It goes all the way back to Genesis 2, when God breathed the breath of life into Adam. He did the same thing in Acts 2 to the church at Pentecost when he breathed His spirit into the church. This connection is profound. It tells me - it tells the world - that although humanity failed in Eden, it will not fail ultimately, because God has a plan. He has a plan of redemption. And so, this thing we call "the church" is important... because it is part of that plan. And as members of the church, we too can be part of that plan. 

Oh, it matters if you are in church - whatever that looks like for you, even if its not being physical present - with or without a chronic illness. It matters. Everything matters. Everything has a reason. 

And now. A word to the other class of readers. To those who do not have a chronic illness. To those who are not in some kind of struggle that feels endless. To those all around. Be encouragers. Find ways to make your pals with chronic illness part of this new humanity. Find out ways to hold out hope to them and with them. Visit them. Send them cards. Read to them, don't just give them a book to read. Involve them in sedentary ministry: bulletin folding, envelope stuffing, prayer partnership, etc. Call them. Talk to them. Read their blogs (hehe). Give them things to laugh about. Enjoy your local church to the fullest. Serve deeply. Give radically. Love... just love. 

We're all in this together. You can't be a new humanity without me, and I can't be a new humanity without you. We are a body. We hurt, heal, and live... together. 

Just a little part of the big body,

Camille

P.S. Listen to Abner's message. It is amazing! It made me more excited about church than I have been in a long time. He also answers some other really relevant questions in this message. Listen on that page, or download it and keep it on your iPod. Listen... repeat. Listen... repeat. I've already listened to parts of it at least three times. It's good; trust me. :)