How do I engage in relationships when I’m limited by chronic illness?

This question is important because it highlights a reality that can easily be missed by strugglers of chronic pain or illness or those in their community. When we think of chronic illness or pain, our mind understandably first jumps to the physical, physiological implications. There’s physical discomfort, pain, weariness, weakness. Sometimes it takes time to realize though that living with chronic pain or illness, the implications of it are actually much broader than physical symptoms. It’s learning how to live life functionally and logistically, the extra appointments, the adjustments needed in your personal and work life, the decisions that need to be made, the finances, the expenses, the practical toll of it. But it’s also the immense mental and emotional toll. And sometimes it also entails a relational toll. And so to the question, How do I engage in relationships when chronic pain limits me? There’s always a lot more that could be said, but I want to start with two categories that may help that Ed Welch presents in a Side by Side material. We are needy and we are needed.

We are needy. I think living with a chronic physical condition shapes our relationships in the sense that we may find ourselves less able, less available, less present. We can’t do relationships the same way we could before our body started hurting. We can’t show up for our friends and loved ones as frequently or consistently. We may not be able to serve at church as consistently. We can’t do the above and beyond for our bosses and work colleagues. Those who are anything like me, living with chronic pain is humbling because you want to be self-sufficient. You want to be a good friend, parent, spouse, coworker, church member. You want to be helpful to serve, to be a blessing. And the desire to be all of those things can outmatch genuine capacity. And that gap, that gap of neediness, that reality that we are needy is a hard one to swallow.

Some of us in this needy category need to learn how to ask for help. Trying to manage on our own is starting to get to be too much. The fear of being a burden, a disappointment, a nuisance, high maintenance, the denying and continually pushing ourselves to try to maintain and keep up beyond what actually seems wise or helpful; the weight of that accumulates. Some of us need to learn how to honestly share what’s happening in our lives so people can better understand. I once heard this metaphor that certain health conditions can be like an invisible wheelchair or invisible crutches. There’s genuine physical limitation, but often there are no visual cues to indicate it. The visual cue of seeing someone use crutches might help us pause before we ask them to walk or run. We adjust our expectations. We may be more quick to offer help to carry their bag, help them up the stairs. But so often with our health conditions, unlike an actual wheelchair or crutches, people can’t see it, you can’t see it. They forget. It’s hard for them to understand. You look fine. Even to yourself, you probably feel it, but it seems less justified, whether because your particular condition isn’t easily diagnosed and therefore doesn’t feel legitimate to yourself or others, or you do seem fine from outward appearances. I don’t know what it is for you. The permission to be and express neediness is hard for many reasons when we’re living with our crutches that are invisible. It requires a level of openness, intentionality, even a level of patience to take time to express, to explain, to kindly remind. It is a grace though. And perhaps with those careful conversations over time, others may realize that you’re doing the best with what you have and they have the opportunity and privilege to come alongside of you as the body of Christ.

The second point is we are needed. The other temptation with living with a chronic physical condition that is filled with limitations is to live with an all-or-nothing approach: If I can’t do this, I can’t do anything. And that is also something that the Lord wants to cultivate our hearts in. Being in relationships while in chronic pain is an invitation to cultivate a vision for loving others that is creative yet doable. We can’t do all the things we may want to do, but perhaps there are still things we can do. Maybe we can’t show up to all the events, but we can still send a note or text message to check in. Maybe we can’t be as productive and active in serving as before, but we can still be diligent in praying. I don’t know what that might look like, and some seasons will be more limiting than others, but is there one thing you are able to do to love someone even in the ocean of things that you can’t, because you are needed, because there may be someone who would be truly blessed by the little gifts of love you’re able to offer.

Lastly, I want to acknowledge even in some of these functional, the reality is relationships are really hard. It can be hard to feel like life is going on and moving forward without you. Seeing on social media all the things that you’re not there to enjoy yourself, no longer able to keep up with all the happenings, seeing others get closer with each other while you feel more and more distant and out of the loop. Feeling guilty for being a bad friend or coworker or church member. You wish you could do so much more. They wish you could do more sometimes. If enough time has passed, sometimes you can begin to feel forgotten and loneliness can settle in. To navigate chronic illness or pain is not just to navigate the physiological pain. It’s also a call to navigate the sadness, the disappointment, the guilt, the grief, and the loneliness.

It can be easy to start to feel unworthy, forgotten, and unseen in it all. So may you find comfort in these words that have been comforting to me from Psalm 40:17: “As for me, I am poor and needy, but the LORD takes thought for me.” The Lord takes thought for you. He sees and knows the ways this has been hard for you. He knows the things you wish you could do, but can’t. He knows your griefs and losses as you’ve navigated this, and the Lord takes thought for you.