On Just Breathing (But also using the word "bowel" . . . sorry.)

Sometimes I do Lamaze even though I’m not giving birth or even carrying a child.  At least, it’s what I imagine Lamaze breathing to be, having never actually given birth sans epidural.

But I do the breathing all the time  because of a chronic digestive disorder from which I suffer.  I have IBS, which is short for Irritable Bowel Syndrome.  Lovely, I know.  If I could hand-pick an affliction, I would certainly not choose one with the word “bowel” in it.  But, alas, I was only afflicted, never consulted.

It started seventeen years ago during my senior year in college.  It plagued me through my student teaching and my inaugural year in the classroom.  It followed me to law school where it worsened, thanks to the added stress and poor sleeping habits.  Over the years it has waxed and waned.  There’ve been weeks, even months if I’m really lucky, where I could almost forget about it.

And then there are times like now.  I’ve just come out of a good season; during the entire month of October I suffered only a handful of attacks.  But November and December have ushered it back with a vengeance.

It’s during times like this that you’ll find me lying in bed doing my “whale breathing” as David calls it.  It sounds a lot like Lamaze breathing I imagine. 

But focusing on the breathing is how I take my mind off the pain.  And in the breathing, I pray.  Breathe in; breathe out.  Breathe in; breathe out.  “Jesus.  Jesus.  Jesus.  Jesus.”  “Please, God.  Please, God.  Please, God.  Please, God.”

They’re not eloquent prayers, but the truest ones rarely are.

In a pig sty of self-pity I wallowed last night, wondering how I could possibly endure another seventeen or twenty-five or forty years of this.  Of game boards set up but never played with my children.  Cleaning supplies gathered in a burst of feeling good but sitting unused after all.  Plans canceled, work obligations dreaded. 

The thing about an illness like this is that you might see me in the grocery store at 2:00 feeling just fine and never believe that at 3:15 I would be completely debilitated and down for the count.

So as I lie in bed last night praying through one breath at a time as my kids were tucked in to bed by their dad instead me, I asked rhetorically for the millionth time, “Why?” What purpose could this possibly serve?:  In addition to the scriptures that often weave in and out of my thoughts during such times of distress, the words to one of my favorite Bebo Norman songs wandered into my mind last night:

Take me to the desert
You will be the water
I will drink forever to fill my soul

And lead me through the fire
Of darkness and desire
You will be my shelter
You will be my shelter

I'll find You there
I'll find You there

It's here that I call out
It's here that I fall down
It's here that I find out
That You are everything I hoped You'd be.**

If I could choose, I would find another place, another way, for me to call out, to fall down, to find out that He’s everything.  But I can’t choose the medium God ordains to bring me to my knees and, thereby, to Himself.

If I could choose, I’d spend the evening doing, being, working.  I’d get dressed for court in the morning and think of nothing but arriving on time and doing my job.

 But when I am struck down, I spend those moments instead breathing in, breathing out.  One breath at a time.  Jesus.  Jesus.  Jesus. 

It makes life a lot harder, but I’ve learned that we often find Jesus in the "harder."  How else could He be the water in my desert and the shelter in my fire?

So, if you can't find me, I’ll just be here breathing.  Jesus.  Jesus.  Jesus.

(And for the record, I think writing a blog post about a bowel condition qualifies me for martyrdom all on its own.  Okay, God?)

(Also for the record, if I cancel upcoming plans in the month of December, don’t take it personally.  I’m just having a really rough month.)

** Everything I Hoped You'd Be, by Jason Ingram and Bebo Norman, copyright Brentwood- Benson Music

Writer(s): Jason Ingram, Bebo Norman
Copyright: Brentwood-benson Music, Windsor Hill Music, Sony/ATV Timber Publishing, West Main Music
Read more at http://www.songlyrics.com/bebo-norman/everything-i-hoped-you-d-be-lyrics/#DDXRciueJIfwsrsH

Writer(s): Jason Ingram, Bebo Norman
Copyright: Brentwood-benson Music, Windsor Hill Music, Sony/ATV Timber Publishing, West Main Music
Read more at http://www.songlyrics.com/bebo-norman/everything-i-hoped-you-d-be-lyrics/#DDXRciueJIfwsrsH.99

Writer(s): Jason Ingram, Bebo Norman
Copyright: Brentwood-benson Music, Windsor Hill Music, Sony/ATV Timber Publishing, West Main Music
Read more at http://www.songlyrics.com/bebo-norman/everything-i-hoped-you-d-be-lyrics/#DDXRciueJIfwsrsH.99