To those suffering with any kind of chronic pain or suffering, mental, emotional, or physical, I want you to know that you are seen. Your hurt does not go unnoticed. You are a brave one, my friend. Keep fighting, keep reaching for His garment. Your echoes are being heard.
Chronic Echoes by Vanessa Smith
Chronic. A word I’ve come to know too well,
A lesson learned not through books, but through pain.
Invisible. A battle that no one can see,
A quiet war within that only I can feel.
They see a picture—“Oh, she’s fine, she’s smiling.”
They ask, “How are you?” and I say “I’m fine.”
But the truth is too heavy to speak,
How the pain gnaws at my soul, tearing me apart from the inside.
It feels like knives, slicing through every part of me,
The light stings my eyes,
The fever once more tries to burn me alive
As I tremble, my chest tightens,
And my heart races—like a storm trapped within.
I am tired, bone-deep exhausted.
No, more than tired—I am drained,
With barely a fraction of sleep that a soul needs to breathe.
I stay up in the dark, fighting the pain,
Until the world falls quiet and still.
And still, I lie there—alone with my shadows,
While the clock ticks, pushing me to rise with the sun.
It’s high school. I can’t fall behind.
I must show up, keep going, keep fighting. For myself if nothing else.
I had dreams once, I still do,
But this illness whispers its cruel doubts,
Trying to steal them from me, to break my spirit.
Living hurts. The very act of it cuts deep.
I reach for my Savior,
Pouring out my heart in desperate prayer,
If He can save my soul,
Can He not also heal this fragile body of mine?
I stretch out my hands, searching through the crowd,
Only wanting to touch the hem of His garment,
To feel His power, to be whole again,
To find the rest that has eluded me for so long.

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