Still Coloring

Some days are hard. The pain can be unbearable, although I am not in pain all day. It comes in waves, almost like contractions. The relief may not last long, but I am always grateful when it comes. What makes it difficult is not knowing when that relief will arrive — whether it will be in minutes or hours. That uncertainty makes the waiting heavy.

In those moments, I write. I write to express myself. I write to distract myself from my present reality. I write to redirect my thoughts in an effort to calm my nervous system.

Writing is how I try to cope. It does not always work, but it is something I can reach for when everything else feels out of reach. If only the medication could work in a way that would completely eliminate the pain.

I have not been able to work as much as I once did. I have not been the same. I miss the old me. I miss the more vibrant version of myself — at least my version of vibrant. Yet, even in my quiet moments and downtime, I am still trying.

My dynamics may have shifted, but I am still here. As I often say, if something does not work one way, you pivot. And that is what I have been doing — pivoting. I have not given up. I am not giving up.

Sometimes I refer to myself as broken. But I remind myself that broken crayons still color. I see myself in Paul’s story and the thorn he asked God to remove. It was not taken away. Instead, he was given grace. And even with that thorn, God still used him (2 Corinthians 12:7–10).

I believe God is still using me too. Even now. Even like this.

So here I am, still coloring the world, even in this new state of living.