A Recliner in which to Lay; Perchance to Pray

This last Sunday was the first Sunday (at least in a long time) that I found myself unable to attend church because of the severity of my pain. In fact, the whole week was one of those, "Go to bed, go directly to bed...do not pass Go, do not collect ...."weeks-that-feel-like-eternities' You get the picture. Maybe.

I didn't go anywhere; see anyone; do anything...just laid as still as possible trying to avoid stirring up the little man who loves to stab me with those red hot pokers. ...Is this what hell is like? (lol. No, I'm sure hell is much worse...which is exactly why I'm doing all I can to avoid going there :) ) But how hell is, is rather irrelevant to me now, because my problem NOW, is simply to find a way to function, even minimally...as in get showered, change PJ's occasionally and eat a bit of food...I would like to say that I succeeded at all those tasks this week...but honestly: I didn't.

And days...and weeks like this are becoming more and more frequent...when sleep is impossible; eating is unimportant; and any other pursuit: unlikely. Pain yawns like the abyss...unavoidable and inescapable. It roars like a freight train with me tied to the tracks and no Captain Marvelous or Lone Ranger or any other hero in sight to rescue me. And it finally dawned on me this week, that church attendance is really no longer possible. Now you must understand that church has been my last bastion of social contact...my self-pretense that all will be well...that all IS well.

But lately, it has changed for me. It has gone from being a joy; an escape from the mundane to the eternal and sublime...; a time to connect with my faith family and to sing and worship my Lord and God...and become instead....an exercise in endurance. A teeth-gritting, lip tensing, nail-biting, hand-wringing hour of torture. My spine cannot put up with being perpendicular to the floor for longer than ten minutes without smacking me in the head and demanding to go lie down somewhere: OR ELSE. And usually about a quarter of the way through the service, I need to stand up, slip through the back door and pace in the foyer...just trying to convince my body to shut up and hang in there for a little while longer. But the "hour" stretches in to a mere century or two....and by the time I crawl into the car to go home, all the furies of hell have been let loose upon me.

So, this week, I made that really difficult ...but I felt, unavoidable, decision to end the charade that my body is anything like a normal one; and to stop saying, "Ok, thanks" or "hanging in there" when asked how I am; and to stop trying to go to church regardless of how important it is to my faith; or to me socially and relationally. It has gone far past the point of "gains outweighing the losses" and it is time to stop denying that huge purple elephant that is dancing in the corner of the room....

When I told my Home Bible study this last night - while comfortably ensconced in their overstuffed recliner - there was a ripple of consternation...and the ideas started coming... The idea began as a joke, "Why not put a recliner in the back of the church for her?" and as the sentence settled in and made itself at home in our thoughts...it didn't seem so crazy or impossible. There was discussion and it was agreed to try to get permission to bring my recliner from my basement over to the church so that I could eke out yet a little more time until that day arrives when no accommodations will alter the fact that my church-going days are over.

Hopefully the heavens will split open with a shout before that point and we'll be seated in the heavenlies together where there will be no more pain or tears, sorrow or sighing....and we wil be worshiping in the place where the worship goes on and on.