"I'm Here"

 “My brothers and sisters,^* whenever you face trials of any kind, consider it nothing but joy, because you know that the testing of your faith produces endurance; and let endurance have its full effect, so that you may be mature and complete, lacking in nothing.” 

 James 1:2-4 NRSV

I was diagnosed with POTS while serving at a trio of wonderful congregations. Before the illness hit, I encountered a woman at the congregation who had significant health issues.  Every Sunday morning I would ask her how she was, and the answer always came with a smile “I’m here”.  We’d chuckle, and I interpreted that as a variation on the answer “fine”. 

During the time when I was initially trying to find answers for my lightheadedness, fatigue and multiple other puzzling symptoms, the same woman showed me great compassion and understanding. I learned more about her health, and the struggle it was for her on Sunday mornings (or any mornings) to get up and move due to issues with significant pain.  I started to understand that when she said, “I’m here”  it was a clue to anyone that wanted to hear it, that it was a rough morning for her.  Soon that became the code language between us, and I started to say “I’m here” right back to her when I was having a rough morning. 

This also attuned my ears more closely to the answers of some other people facing challenges—the dear man in his mid-90’s who’d say he was “fair to middlin’”  on some days; the man fighting cancer who would say he was fine, until I’d look deep in his eyes and say “ok, it’s me…how are you?” and he’d give a deeper answer.  I learned that my own struggles were tuning my heart and ears to hear others more carefully. The answers I would have accepted before, the ‘fines’ and ‘I’m here’s” now had nuances and tones that I hadn’t heard before, and they opened me up to wonderful conversations I’d missed before.

But even more than code language, “I’m here” became a statement of faith for this woman.  Despite physical difficulties that would have stopped many other folks, despite daily challenges that were difficult and discouraging, she chose to still come to church. She chose to be there, and through that “simple” action, she witnessed to the God who was with her through all things.  “I’m here” was a declaration, and on many days, her courage and faith…witnessed by being there…helped me keep going and keep facing the tests of my health.

On days that she was unable to be there, I didn’t think she was any less courageous…but began to understand that if something had kept her from church I should really check on her—because it would have to be pretty difficult to stop her from coming. 

In quiet, profound, incredible ways, these dear people (and many others since then) have taught me the importance and depth of “I’m here.”    To the newly widowed woman who still brought her children to worship, even though it was a place where her husband and family had been active…thank you for your witness.  To the young man just released from prison who wasn’t sure church would accept him, but for whom a worn out hand-written prayer had sustained him every day of his incarceration…thank you for your witness.  To the man who is facing difficult job struggles every single day that would have worn most people down, and yet when asked says “we have a warm house and nourishing food on the table today… we’re fine”…thank you for your witness.  And to the women and men who show up, and the people who support and care for them, despite long and often exhausting challenges every day…thank you. 

And to you, no matter what you are facing today, thank you for showing up and being ‘here’.  I do not know your story, but I know that it takes courage, determination and moxie to show up  for life when you are facing chronic illness.  And I am grateful that you stop by this blog to be ‘here’ too.  It makes a difference, and it encourages me too.  You see, “I’m here” too.  J

Dear God, You are Immanuel—God with us. We thank you for being HERE.  Help us this day to witness to your faithfulness, and give us the strength we need to do what you need us to do.  Even if that is encouraging others by just showing up.   Amen.