Faith and fatigue

‘He learned obedience through what he suffered’ (Hebrews 5v8). This is one of those mysterious claims that the Bible makes and that theologians like to put down as beyond the realm of human understanding. 

The verse is speaking about Jesus, in the context of a discussion of his role as High Priest, that is, as the one who represents us before God and makes it possible for us to come before God also. That Jesus, fully God and fully man, sinless, should need to learn obedience? That, as the next verse claims, he should need to be ‘made perfect’? I can’t help but think there is an implication in there that somehow, perfection cannot be attained without suffering; that there is a maturity, a wholeness that can’t be reached simply by doing right, but that must be won through experiencing the full weight of evil.

I suppose obedience is one of those qualities that doesn’t exist without the opportunity to exercise it, like patience; it really isn’t possible to be patient if there is nothing that you’re waiting for.

 

Anyway, this verse has been on mind this week. It’s ME awareness week, and on Wednesday I made a video to share with friends about how having CFS/ME has affected my life. The bottom line is that I have been much better off that many people who suffer from the condition; simply because, for many including myself, rest is key to not aggravating symptoms, and key, where possible, to recovery. Sustained rest has been possible for me for a whole bunch of reasons, between working part time, having an understanding manager, a good support network, a sufficient income, few responsibilities. But there is another aspect to why I have been able to prioritise rest these last few years as I’ve struggled with this illness, and that has been God’s tirelessly repeated commands to rest.

(NB: There is a lot of controversy around definitions of CFS/ME, and at least some evidence to suggest that a bunch of different issues may be mistakenly given the same diagnosis, which is why I don't want to claim that rest is the answer for everyone. I tend to use the term CFS 'Chronic Fatigue Syndrome' for my own illness because it defines a set of symptoms that go together rather than giving a reason for them; most patients especially those with severe symptoms prefer ME 'Myalgic Encephalomyelitis' because it recognises that it is a real, serious, physically-underpinned disease, in a way that Chronic Fatigue Syndrome doesn't. To be quite clear, rest is super important but THERE IS WAY MORE TO ME/CFS THAN JUST NEEDING A BREAK and many people suffer with severe symptoms for decades even if they are well cared for.) 

Theologians distinguish between God’s eternal word – contained in the text of the Bible – and God’s timely word. The truths in the Bible apply to all of us, all the time, whereas ‘timely’ words are given to an individual or a group at a specific time. There is a lot to be said on how God speaks to us, and I’m not going to open that can of worms here! Suffice to say, then, that the majority of the timely words God has spoken to me over the past couple of years, have been specifically about rest.

See, I’m a doer by nature. I am at my happiest when I am active, ideally trying something new, or something challenging, or something that will have a big impact. I fall for the fallacy that the value of a day is calculated by how productive it’s been; that time spent doing little, is time wasted. And I want to hold myself to the highest standards in my interactions with the world, which means actively engaging with every ethical issue I encounter. Like Henry David Thoreau I want to ‘suck out all the marrow of life’

Or for a lower brow reference, Zootopia

That means that when I see an improvement in my health, an increase in my energy levels or my capacity (or even when I don’t) I immediately want to fill that space with something new, challenging, active. I’ve learnt that just isn’t how recovery works. I recently discovered the invaluable practice of ‘pre-emptive rest’, which means resting before you get tired, which helps to normalise your energy levels so that you avoid the dips and crashes associated with chronic fatigue conditions. In other words, choosing to spend ‘useful’ time on doing as little as possible, having a nap or just sitting quietly with my thoughts. Sometimes it feels like I’m using my illness as an excuse: I could do that thing that needs doing, but even though I look and feel just fine right now, I’d better not.

That’s where time and time again those timely words from God have pulled me up short. The number of times I’ve seen an opportunity to move somewhere new, try something different, put my skills to greater use, and in praying about it get an instant, unqualified ‘No’. It’s like God is saying ‘you’re right where you need to be, now for goodness sake would you just stop trying to leave’. I remember a year ago, when I had taken a week off work for a staycation, and I’d written up a list of stuff to ‘sort out’ in my time off – housekeeping, gardening, decisions to be made. I made the mistake (?) of going to a prophetic prayer evening (lessons from Jonah: if you don’t want to do what God says, then don’t listen to him in the first place); everyone who prayed for me gave me some variation of a word on not trying to do things myself but relying on God, which completely upended my plans to be productive. Recently my energy levels have been fairly good, and most days I have been able to get on with things. Yet just a few weeks ago, I was listening to a prayer podcast which quoted Matthew 11:28 in The Message translation:

^28-30 “Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.”

Out of the blue I burst into tears, suddenly aware of how deeply exhausted I still am, in spite of improvements. I am still in desperate need of rest, and every time I forget, God reminds me. 

 

It’s one of those things that convinces me that God cares more about my good than even I do. How pretentious of me to think that! And yet it’s the only conclusion to be drawn when my mind is ever on ‘let me do this good thing – for me, for you, for someone else’ and his response is ‘no, I want you to take a break’. Breaks which, from reading other people’s stories of CFS/ME, have most likely protected me from a much worse illness. Breaks which, over time, have added up to improvement in my symptoms. 

God interacts with each of us differently; it’s part of why we often pull out that tired phrase ‘Christianity is not a religion, but a relationship.’ His grace to me has been to hold me back from pursuing my endless goals, to give me the rest that my body needs, and through it, gradually, healing. His grace to others will look different, and I don’t think for a second that the fact I’m getting better, means God cares any less for those whose illness is much more serious. Rather, that he has chosen to turn my particular illness into an opportunity to learn to walk in step with his plans for me, and not to run on ahead.

It’s beyond my limited self-discipline to choose rest when there are shiny opportunities all around me. I know it is; let me tell you, I have tried my hardest! That’s why I keep thinking of Jesus, learning obedience through suffering. It is my privilege to follow in his footsteps and learn through what I suffer – because if I ignore God’s pre-emptive call to rest, if I put off obedience with a childish ‘just one more thing, Daddy’, I make myself sick again, I miss out on more of life, and I am the loser.

Yesterday, again, I was given a word about resting; this time, about stopping trying to frantically paddle upstream, but get out of my canoe and lie in the sunshine on a rock instead. Honestly, folks, I thought I was resting! I woke up this morning frustrated; how can you ask me to slow down, God, when I’m already going nowhere? I suspect this time he’s looking more for a change of attitude than of behaviour; not so much doing less, as yelling at myself less for not doing more.

‘It is hard for you to kick against the goads,’ Jesus said to Saul when they met on the Damascus Road. Yes, it is hard; teach me, Lord, to truly rest. I confess that after all these years, I still don’t know how.