It isn’t often that we get a lull in the “medical” action during our lives with chronic pain. In fact, such moments, brief or long, might take us by complete suprise – and we don’t fully realize them until they’re in the rearview mirror. (Much like that “aha!” moment when we’ve gone through the day and suddenly realize that the “bad” knee behaved.) Or we might be so focused on a flare-up of trouble in one area that we don’t recognize the relative healing that’s taking place elsewhere in our same, oh-so-complex body.

The lulls might not be fully free of pain, but they do come with an extra dose of peace of mind and heart, comfort, or at least an easing of the stressful burden of hurting. I look upon them as God’s way of allowing me to catch my breath, store up faith and hope, and re-ignite trust that all is not completely wrapped in a shroud of suffering.

In order to recognize a lull as it happens, we have to be mindful of what’s taking place in our bodies. Not egotistically focused, but “just checking in” with the various locations where we know the battle between pain and peace is being waged. Moments in meditation can help us do this, as can time in prayer or gentle stretching.

Once I recognize a lull, the first thing I do is lift up a really delighted “Thank you!” Gratitude is a sure way of shifting focus from what’s wrong to what’s right. Next, I allow myself to breathe, to enjoy the time in the lull, imagining myself in a boat gently bobbing along in a peaceful but active body of water.

When lulls pass, as they will do, we might feel letdown or sad. Or, perhaps angry. But the time we spent enjoying them can help us be strong in the aftermath, and moving ahead, we can be better-sure that lulls will come again, offering us God-given respite, grace, and joy.

Blessings for the day!

Maureen