Have you ever had one of those days where your mind is bursting with ideas and plans, but your body feels like it is weighs a ton and all you want to do is crawl into bed. For me today is one of those discombobulated days where my mind is longing to work. I had a post that I wanted to share about the day my family got Happy. But even though half the post is already composed in my head, my tired and achy body rebels at the thought of sitting down and trying to type out the lines.
So instead I thought I would share a poem that I had written a few years back that was inspired by the frustration of having to deal with the debilitating fatigue created by chronic health issues like iron deficiency anemia, fibromyalgia, and more.
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I hope that you and your family are enjoying a wonderful day of giving thanks to God for all of his wonderful blessings and the millions of ways that He takes care of you and your family all year long.
Also here is a fun turkey Nanogram to add to the fun of this wonderful day of thanks.
Tired, Tired, I Feel so Tired is a poem that I wrote during one of the flare ups of my chronic anemia in an attempt to express the deep fatigue that was robbing me of the freedom to live life to the fullest.
I thought that since my iron deficiency anemia has once again raised its ugly head, draining my energy, causing my heart to race, and leaving me in a mental fog, that I would share this little poem inspired by my battle with chronic health issues.
Tired, Tired, I Feel so Tired
Tired so tired!
My body feels so tired.
Like a weary shorn out rag I walk around in a worn out daze.
My hallow body feels ancient and weighted down from some unseen place deep within;
As if an indivisible foe is sucking the energy from deep within.
I struggle to stay focused.
I desperately push on,
But my endurance is gone.
Even my hunger is diminished,
As my empty stomach trembles at the wearisome
and draining thought of food.
Oh who would believe that an invisible bug could cut a grown being down so completely?
Could bring them crawling to their knees.
That a microscopic organism could invade a body composed of billions of cells,
And bring it halting to the ground.
Robbing the body of its vital fluid and nutrition,
Stealing the vibrant glowing spring from its once happy free flowing step,
And freezing the elastic stretch that gives life and freedom to the body.
Such a miniscule molecule,
But the power to debilitate is locked so cunningly and curiously within.
The power to slow down expansion,
The power to make humanity so ill,
The power to destroy instead of uplift,
The power to devastate and destroy nations,
The power to kill both big and small.
What a little molecule,
What a little virus.
So insignificantly microscopic,
Yet it can hold the fate of many under its whimsical rollercoaster control.
So the sad story goes with sin.
It is just a miniscule microscopic sin.
It is just a wee small fraction of a dot to hold onto.
It cannot possibly kill or maim.
It is too small to do any real harm.
You cannot possibly compare it to any of the real killers like stroke and heart disease.
Mine is just a small unnoticeable little cherished blot that it cannot possibly lay down roots and smother my heart.
Why I have it so well stuffed and tamed that it cannot go anywhere.
It is so confined into that back corner that it cannot possibly reproduce and do anyone or anybody any harm.
How can you claim that one little sin such as mine is so wrong?
How can one little miniscule germ kill hundreds,
How can one virus bring one metropolis halting with heart pounding fear to its knees?
One little sin,
One little stain,
One little stubborn willfully cherished corner,
And some day the day may come when just like an out of control mutant toxic virus it will flourish and spread,
Overflowing and choking out the fresh healthy cells that stand between it and sunshine,
Killing off all the noble and pure desires of the heart.
Destroying your longings to live a pure and righteous life.
But even if that day should never come.
One longingly cherished sin,
What is the price?
What is the cost?
At whose ultimate expense will the price be paid?
How many will see and walk away?
How many will see and stumble?
How many will see and follow your example?
When the day of reckoning comes will you want to turn and walk away?
Will you finally want to part company with it then?
If you have not begun the struggle now,
Will you suddenly be ready just because Jesus has shown up in the clouds of glory?
Or will you find that you have paid the ultimate price for living with and flittering with a deadly virus?