Typically I focus my writing on the hope we have through Christ, even in life’s greatest challenges. Because no matter what we’re facing in life, we always have hope in and beyond our pain, suffering, and sorrows.
But sometimes, I’ve also found that we do ourselves a disservice when we don’t acknowledge the magnitude of the struggle and just keep pushing through as if we’re indestructible and without limits. But the truth is – although we do have an indestructible hope, we – in our human frame – are not indestructible. And sometimes, in our efforts to avoid complaining or giving into despair (which are good desires), we downplay the depth of struggle and the realities of living in this limited and broken frame.
So today, I simply want to acknowledge the depth of the struggle for those long-suffering – often in relative silence. And if that’s not you, may it give you a compassionate glimpse into the many around you are.
Life in a Broken Frame
If you’ve ever struggled to understand what life is like with chronic illness (and/or intense long-suffering), it’s like being the captain of a ship with a base that’s riddled with holes. In order to stay afloat, the majority of energy is spent bailing out the water that’s pouring in from all sides. Yet, all the normalcies of life don’t stop. Food still has to get on the table, bills still need to be paid, children still need to be cared for and invested in, marriage still needs to be worked at, the (boat) house still needs to be cleaned, and friendships still need to be invested in. But all anyone sees from the surface is a boat floating along the river of life like everyone else.
Therefore, friends and family often have typical expectations of you and struggle to understand why you aren’t pouring out as much effort as they are. Your children still look to you for stability, security, and guidance. Therefore, because you don’t want them to worry that you’re sinking, you bail water all the more frantically below the surface so that those who are tethered to your boat don’t live in a constant state of panic, worry, and disappointment.
But overtime, the weariness begins to show from bailing water day in and day out as you slowly watch the rising water overtake your dwindling strength and resolve. Yet, despite your exhaustion to the core, you do your best to engage with those drifting alongside of you, while they begin to wonder why you aren’t investing more in their boat, why you aren’t as fun as you used to be, and why you seem to struggle with the simplest tasks.
And yet, what others can’t see from the surface is the time, money, energy, and emotion that it takes to simply stay afloat. As the years go by, you desperately try to patch any hole you can, but eventually, as the pressures and stress multiply, water breaks through once again and comes pouring back into your ever-weakening frame.
Overtime, loved ones wonder why you’re so self-focused. Other boats wonder why you just can’t get it together and work a little harder. Some float away because you’re kind of a drag when you can’t keep up. Eventually, your own mind and body take on the added effects of always running on empty. And yet, despite knowing the nightmare it is to live in such a broken frame, you grow frustrated with yourself, berating your weak frame for not being stronger.
After enough time passes, more cracks begin to show. Your ceaseless efforts to keep your pain and exhaustion from bringing down those around you begin to fissure. Your resolve to at least look stable on the surface begins to fade. And every person who looks at you with disappointment makes it harder and harder to drag yourself back to the surface. As water comes up to your neck and you feel your boat slowly sinking, the final blow comes from the boat repairman, who looks at the surface of your boat and says, “It looks perfectly fine to me! If you’re struggling, maybe the problem is you, not the boat.” And you begin to wonder if they’re right. Maybe you’re the crazy one.
This is the life of living in a broken frame, one that drowns out what you used to enjoy; one that others look upon and wonder why you can’t keep up and, at times, so self-absorbed; and one that makes every “normal” thing in life feel like an impossible feat. Eventually, you forget what a once functional boat must have been like – along with the person you once were with it.
No, life in a broken, slowly sinking frame doesn’t leave you hopeless because Jesus breathes hope into what is hopeless and can heal and redeem what is broken in this life. But at times, it sure leaves you weary, worn, and unsure of how much longer you can keep bailing water to simply stay afloat.
The truth is, we all have a hole or two in our boat, because no one’s frame is perfectly whole. But some are living with a frame that takes everything within them – body, mind, and emotion – to keep from sinking every single moment of the day. Who you may perceive as being lazy, selfish, lacking determination and effort, and having low capacity, may in fact be one of the most persevering people you know who are actually giving everything within them to stay afloat for those they love. What you see on the surface of another’s boat may look fine, but for the long-sufferer (of illness or intense circumstances), below the surface tells a very different story. Be patient with those around you who may look like they can’t get their act together. They very well may be in the fight of their life, and giving everything to not bring anyone down with them.
For some, love may simply look like not giving up.
Home is around the corner,
Sarah Walton
You connect with Sarah on Instagram here.
To read more of Sarah’s writings, you can purchase a copy of He Gives More Grace: 30 Reflections for the Ups and Downs of Motherhood, Hope When It Hurts: 30 Biblical Reflections to help you grasp God’s purpose in your suffering), Tears and Tossings (short evangelistic resource on how God carries our sorrows), or Together Through the Storms (for married couples navigating the trials of life). Lastly, you can now pre-order Sarah’s Pilgrim’s Progress inspired children’s book based on the account of the Prodigal Son, titled “The Long Road Home” (Crossway, October 29th, 2024).
Set Apart 