By Jennifer Davis
I want to share something with you—not because I want to talk about it, because honestly, I don’t—but because I know that if I’m feeling this way, others might be too. I want those people to know: you’re not alone, and we’re going to get through this. There is peace on the other side of this.
Recently, I participated in a Zoom event called the Thrive Summit. One of the guest speakers said something that resonated with me deeply. It helped me see what I’ve been dealing with in a new, better way.
For weeks now, I’ve been living with an overwhelming feeling of dread. It’s not the kind where you’re waiting for “the other shoe to drop.” It’s like it already has, and I’m stuck perpetually living in that space. It’s been painful, and I haven’t been able to put words to it or pinpoint where it’s coming from.
I’ve tried talking to my husband, just to let him know I’m not okay and that I’ve been hurting. But I didn’t know how to make it stop.
A lot of this centers around my daughter Lizzy. She had a horrendous surgery last November. Not only did the surgery fail to help her, but it made things worse. She’s in constant pain, especially when she tries to stand or walk. I feel powerless. I don’t know where the pain is coming from, and I don’t know how to take it away.
All I can do is move my feet. I make sure she sees her doctors as soon as possible. I keep everyone involved and on task, but the process is painfully slow.
I wish there were an easy solution, but there isn’t. Her body has several underlying challenges, and addressing one issue seems to uncover another. It feels endless.
Today, through this Summit, I was reminded of something simple yet profound:
“Your feelings are real… but you are responsible for them.”
At first, I thought, Well, duh. But then I really thought about it.
This reflection led me to the law of relativity: that our situations aren’t inherently good or bad until we compare them to something else. And that comparison has been a big part of my struggle. Without realizing it, I was comparing Lizzy’s current pain to a time when she wasn’t in pain—a time when she could stand for an hour to sing and play. Holding that high bar in my mind, it’s no wonder I’ve been left feeling such dread and hopelessness.
Recognizing this gave me a glimmer of hope. That awareness, that shift, helped me feel just a little better. I didn’t realize how much I needed that. I needed to take responsibility for how I was feeling because no one else is making me feel this way. I was allowing the situation around me to fill me with dread.
Every night, Lizzy and I pray together. One night, it was her turn, and her sweet, humble prayer was:
“Please, Jesus, help my knees not hurt so much.”
She didn’t say why—not so she could stand or walk—just that it wouldn’t hurt. Hearing that ripped my heart out because I want that for her too, so much.
I don’t know how to make peace with this situation. I’m not even sure if that’s possible. But I do know that I am responsible for how I feel. I don’t expect myself to be happy about this, but I know—and accept—that I don’t have to choose to be unhappy about it either.
The situation is what it is. I can pray for peace and comfort, for both Lizzy and myself. I’ve also realized that I don’t need to carry the weight of the world for either of us. I am of far greater use to Lizzy as a whole, functioning human than as an emotional wreck with a dark cloud hanging over my head.
Life is hard sometimes.
But we are not alone.
We will get through this.
- Your Feelings are Real - December 8, 2023
- Finding The Calm - December 8, 2023
- Finding the Good in Any Situation - December 8, 2023
