Discovering Contentment in the Face of Chronic Illness
Finding Strength Through Faith Amid Life's Challenges
Have you ever noticed how the tiniest words can pack the biggest emotional punch? That little three-letter question—"Why?"—has a way of sneaking into our hearts during life's toughest moments and then BOOM! Emotional explosion. Spiritual shrapnel everywhere.
Trust me, I've been there—curled up on my bathroom floor at 2 AM, clutching my phone with WebMD open and wondering why my body decided to stage a mutiny against me. Again.
Those questions start innocently enough:
"Why did this happen to me?" (As if the universe has a personal vendetta against my Brain 🧠)
"Why does God allow suffering?" (The theological equivalent of trying to solve a Rubik's cube blindfolded)
"Why doesn't God heal me?" (Said while aggressively shaking my prescription bottle at the ceiling)
Let's be real—asking these questions isn't wrong. It's human! But here's where I tripped myself up for years: I mistakenly believed that if I could just crack the "why" code, perfect peace would follow.
Spoiler alert: that's not how this works.
The Question Pivot That Changed Everything
I once heard a speaker—someone who'd been through the kind of tragedy that makes you question everything—say something that hit me like a spiritual two-by-four: Instead of asking "why did this happen to me?", try asking "how can God use me in this?"
Y'all, I typed that quote up so fast! Because my brain was OBSESSED with knowing why I was suffering, and I needed that reminder!
Here's the uncomfortable truth I've had to swallow (without water, which is always the worst): God might reveal snippets of the "why," but ultimately, we're called to trust in a plan bigger than our understanding.
"And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose." - Romans 8:28
"As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts." -Isaiah 55:9
I cling to these verses like they're the last piece of chocolate in the house. Because God is working for our good, even when all evidence points to the contrary—and His perspective is galaxies beyond our limited human understanding.
When Your Body Betrays You (And Your Value Doesn't)
Let's talk about coping with chronic limitations, shall we? This is where I've face-planted repeatedly.
For years, my self-worth was tangled up in what I could accomplish and how well my body performed. I was basically the human equivalent of a smartphone—valued for functionality and speed. When chronic illness crashed that party, my sense of value went into free fall.
But then I stumbled across this gem:
"But he said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.' Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ's sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong." -2 Corinthians 12:9-10
Wait a minute—my weakness isn't a liability but an opportunity? When I feel like a half-charged battery trying to power a Tesla, Christ's power can actually REST on me? That's a plot twist I wasn't expecting!
I've had to learn (kicking and screaming) to be okay with being weak. And friend, you might need to embrace that too.
Finding Contentment When Your Body is Staging a Rebellion
We live in a world that worships productivity and perfection.
News flash: even completely healthy people can't meet all the expectations society throws at them! So why are we beating ourselves up?
Learning contentment has been like trying to learn a foreign language while underwater—difficult but transformative.
"I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do all this through him who gives me strength." -Philippians 4:12-13
Paul doesn't say "I was naturally gifted at being content." Nope—he LEARNED it, which means there's hope for chronically ill people, like me, who've become Olympic-level champions at the crushing disappointment of texting "I can't make it tonight" for the third weekend in a row. My calendar has more cancellations than a network TV lineup, and I've perfected the art of watching friends' Instagram stories from my bed, wondering if FOMO qualifies as an additional diagnosis code my insurance would cover.
But Paul's journey reminds me that contentment isn't some magical personality trait bestowed upon the eternally optimistic—it's a hard-fought skill developed in the trenches of disappointment, which happens to be where many of us chronically ill folks have built our second homes.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​
This doesn't mean we resign ourselves to suffering forever. It means we choose contentment in this moment—even in our most pain filled days—creating space for God to work in surprising ways.
Your Turn: Contentment Treasure Hunt
What expectations are robbing you of contentment right now? Is it your career ambitions? Family responsibilities? The stubborn belief that your body should function like it did at 18? (If you find the secret to that last one, call me immediately.)
Take some time to pray about what's keeping you from contentment. And yes, it's perfectly okay to ask for healing while simultaneously seeking contentment. It's not either/or—it's both/and.
Your chronic illness journey might not make sense right now, but I promise you're not walking it alone. And sometimes, the most powerful question isn't "why?" but "what now?"​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​
Let's Commiserate in the Comments!
Alright, my chronic illness comrades—I've laid my spiritual struggles bare like a patient gown that doesn't quite close in the back, and now it's your turn!
Drop a comment sharing which question has been your personal tormentor: the dreaded "why me?" the philosophical "why suffering?" or perhaps the heartbreaking "why no healing?" Has your faith ever done gymnastics through these questions? And tell me—what expectations are currently holding your contentment hostage? (Mine is still thinking I should be able to grocery shop AND cook dinner in the same day without needing a 48-hour recovery period... laughable, I know!)
Oh—and please share this post with that friend who's currently doom-scrolling through medical websites at 3 AM. We'll build our contentment muscles together, one canceled plan and unexpected blessing at a time.
Remember, your chronic illness might limit your activities, but it doesn't have to limit your impact.