THE WAR RAGES ON

And you have bereaved my soul and cast it off far from peace;
I have forgotten what good and happiness are.
And I say, Perished is my strength and my expectation from the Lord.
Oh Lord, the thought of my affliction and my misery, my wandering and my outcast state, is bitter beyond words;
My soul has them continually in remembrance and is bowed down with in me as I grieve over my loss.

But this I recall and therefore;
I dare to have hope and expectation.
It is because of the Lord's mercy and loving-kindness that we are not consumed;
because His compassions fail not.
They are new every morning; great and abundant is Your stability and faithfulness.
The Lord is my portion or my share, says my inner self; therefore I will hope in Him and wait expectantly for Him.
- Lamentations 3:15-24


I am held captive in an endless war.

My body is broken. Irreparably broken. Or so it feels. It has been hijacked by an unseen terrorist that stealthily and freely flows through my body launching it's unrelenting, unending assaults. Barbaric attacks that strip me of my ability to move, to think, to work, to play, to breathe, to live, to be.

The war wages on, and I am left hanging on by a thread. A small, tiny, microscopic thread. My earthly perspective lends itself to a limited a view. I see no light on the horizon or beyond. I am held hostage with in the 4 walls of my home, confined, condemned to merely exist...a shadow on the outer fringes of life. Truly living life has been gone so long, I can no longer remember what it was, what it felt like, what I did...and no longer is a 'good' moment, a 'good' hour, a 'good' day long enough to refresh my memory, long enough to restore stability to the chaos, long enough to remember what it means to just be me

The war violently rages on. The endless days have fallen into never ending weeks, months, years and nothing changes. Nothing but the great, vast unknown endlessly stretching before me. Nothing but the same vicious, relentless cycle to face day in and day out. I am barely able to cling to that unrequited promise of healing. It is my hope but it has been reduced to the meekest, weakest whisper as this war has mercilessly snuffed it out again and again.

The only note worthy change I bear witness to is the leaves on the tree outside my window. Just beyond my reach its seasonal cycle serves as a taunting, mocking reminder that life goes on, with or without me. 3 times over, I have watched the leaves on that tree go from lush green to vibrant red, orange and yellow to the bare cold branches I now see, reflecting the barrenness I feel.

Feel? Feel what? Do I even feel anymore?My body is fragile. My mind is tormented. I am weak. I want to let go. I am alone. I am lost. And I am numb to it all. Numb to the suffering. Numb to the pain. Numb to the grief. Numb to the loss. Numb to undulating isolation. Numb to the silence that crowds out my thoughts.

Numb to this war that wages within me.
Yet part of me intrinsically knows that there is hope beyond the despair.
That hidden from my sight, the Master is at work
His power, His love, His strength fail not.

I am at war with an enemy that doesn't fight fair.
And I have fought hard not to become a casualty of it.
I have been to the cusp of victory a hundred times over
And a hundred times over it has been ripped from my grasp
Over and over and over again.

Lyme wants all, it takes all
And I am at war with this beast
It is a screaming, mocking demon within
It unleashes its all consuming fury on my broken body
It spews forth its venomous poison into my weary mind
And now in relentless, dogged pursuit
it rages forward to lay claim to my soul.

And I am spinning and staggering under the weight of the fight
Shedding blood, sweat and tears
to keep it from stealing my soul
let it have my body, my mind but not steal my soul
Please, I beg,
Not my faith, my reason for being.
Not my hope, my essence of living.
Without faith, I have nothing
Without hope, I would be consumed.

Somehow, somewhere, someday this battle will be brought to an end.

I surrender not to the war but to the Master and His plan.

I still dare to believe, to have faith, to have hope