Pain in the Chest: What do you do?

Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. Bear with each other and forgive one another if any of you has a grievance against someone. Forgive as the Lord forgave you. And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity.

—Colossians 3:12-14 NIV

I can still feel that pain in the center of my chest every time I cough, sneeze, or pick up my grandbaby—even though the injury occurred well over a month ago.

I was working on establishing a regular exercise routine, which included daily low-impact aerobics. One day when my 4-year-old granddaughter joined me in exercising, I found it difficult to keep from stepping on her and quickly adjusted my footing, twisting my ankle in the process. My podiatrist prescribed an anti-inflammatory and a period of rest—no more aerobics. But upper-body exercise was not off limits.

That’s how I found myself in the kayak on a beautiful afternoon in August. My friend, Michael, joined me, and we rented the boats for an hour—an hour that passed all too quickly. Before we knew it, we had overstayed our limit and had to hurry back to shore. I reached the launch first, then turned around to see Michael way behind. I was worried about getting out of the kayak and putting pressure on my injured foot. Although Michael had assured me he would help, just sitting there waiting on him seemed silly. With both hands, I gripped the sides of the boat and attempted to lift my body. At that moment, something popped in the center of my chest, shooting severe pain straight through me. Tears stung my eyes. I couldn’t move.

Cares and Hairs

Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground outside your Father’s care. And even the very hairs of your head are all numbered. So don’t be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows.

—Matthew 10:29-31 

I saw it fall.  

Right there in front of me the striking blue blossom loosened its grip on the orchid’s stem and floated to a landing in the center of my kitchen table. 

“Aww…” I moaned, pausing from my work just a moment to mourn the demise of my gorgeous centerpiece. 

Then I returned to the task at hand—tidying up the kitchen. But I left the blossom there. Maybe because it matched my mood. My kitchen table once decorated with smiling faces at each place was now set with piles of bills and a fading flower in its midst. 

A speck of green on the bench caught my attention. As I leaned down, I realized it was a tiny hair band. 

That’s where that got to. I remembered earlier in the week I had picked up my pony-tailed two-year-old granddaughter Addie from day care, and she wasn’t at my house long before the pony-tail disappeared. 

The Way Home

Then Jesus declared, “I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never go hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.”

—John 6:35

 

I call it a funk—this melancholy mood, this heavy heart I’ve been carrying around all week. This week after Easter, after all my family members have returned to their homes and schedules have returned to normal. Except nothing has felt normal to me. Nothing has felt like home.

 

“Please pray for me,” I asked my friends. And I prayed for myself, Why art thou cast down, O my soul? and why art thou disquieted in me? hope thou in God (Psalm 42:5).