I remain in intense pain...
It has not gone away, nor has it diminished. But my faith remains strong. Just because my body is weak with an infirmity doesn't mean that my love for the Lord has been lost. As I wrote in my journal entry, "Limping by Faith," I am limping along by faith.
My hurting back has slowed me down. Sitting is difficult. But so is standing, walking and kneeling. The pain goes from my lower back to my right hip, and then down my right leg to just above or near my ankle.
It is also a pain which is causing me to pray more, and to seek a deeper walk with God. It's an "Oh God, please help me!" type of pain. It is the kind of pain that, without God's grace and His divine help, could drive a man insane. It's a crippling yet humbling pain, too.
Nevertheless, my life remains abuzz with responsibilities. I still work full-time. And, as always, I am very involved with the worship services and Bible studies in the chapel. Life, of course, goes on.
So if my journal writings are few, it's because of the pain. Normally I'd be sitting for hours on the hard metal stool that's bolted to the floor of my cell directly in front of the small table-top where my typewriter faithfully sits like a sentry on guard duty waiting for an assignment from headquarters.
For now, however, sitting hurts more than standing. Therefore, I cannot write as much.
D.B.
My hurting back has slowed me down. Sitting is difficult. But so is standing, walking and kneeling. The pain goes from my lower back to my right hip, and then down my right leg to just above or near my ankle.
It is also a pain which is causing me to pray more, and to seek a deeper walk with God. It's an "Oh God, please help me!" type of pain. It is the kind of pain that, without God's grace and His divine help, could drive a man insane. It's a crippling yet humbling pain, too.
Nevertheless, my life remains abuzz with responsibilities. I still work full-time. And, as always, I am very involved with the worship services and Bible studies in the chapel. Life, of course, goes on.
So if my journal writings are few, it's because of the pain. Normally I'd be sitting for hours on the hard metal stool that's bolted to the floor of my cell directly in front of the small table-top where my typewriter faithfully sits like a sentry on guard duty waiting for an assignment from headquarters.
For now, however, sitting hurts more than standing. Therefore, I cannot write as much.
D.B.
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