
If her walls could talk, they would …
WHEN YOUR CHRONIC ILLNESS IS QUESTIONED
It isn’t easy for others to fathom what it’s like to live with a chronic illness. When people don’t see you at your worst, they may question whether you are ill at all. If they could see how your illness disrupts your plans, limits your activity, and isolates you, perhaps they (not everyone, but certainly some) would better understand you. Do your best to convey to them what your life is like.
EDUCATE
E – Enlighten those who want to hear about your illness and how it affects your life. Some people are interested and know how to be sensitive.
D – Determine not to let others’ words or actions make you feel bad about yourself. Their opinions don’t erase the validity of your illness.
U – Understand that you don’t have to reach everyone. You can’t control other people’s perceptions.
C – Calm yourself when people blatantly dismiss what you’ve said and redirect your energy to other things. This may be hard to do, but it’s better to concentrate on something else than to dwell on someone’s attitude you can’t change.
A – Accept that not everyone will be interested in learning about your compromised health. Their attitude may have more to do with them than with you, so try to let it go.
T – Try to focus on those who believe and support you. Let them know how much you appreciate them.
E – Ease into conversations gradually, then assess whether it’s safe to disclose more. It’s okay to change the subject if it doesn’t feel right to elaborate, and it’s also okay to keep going if the person is receptive.
If her walls could talk, … they would
- remind you that home is an abode where one can be honest. There is no need for a façade since it’s a haven for authenticity. Those walls would then tell you about both the heart-wrenching and heartwarming displays they observe every day.
- relay what they see: tears soaked into tissue after tissue, worry lines carved into her forehead, and fear settled in her eyes. They would also describe her frustration when she can’t put her thoughts into words, and when she forgets things she never would have forgotten before she got sick.
- speak of the agonizing sounds they hear: burdensome moans, sorrowful cries, and (sometimes) choking sobs. As she talks to herself, they also hear self-deprecating comments, expressions like “It’s too hard,” and other words that are too desperate and heartbreaking to repeat.
- report that she has only occasional visitors who stay for short periods. She rarely leaves, and when she does, it isn’t for long. After a visit or outing, her exhausted frame slumps onto the couch or bed, where she remains until she can recover somewhat from the exertion.
If her walls could talk, … they would
- declare her disease real. She isn’t exaggerating. They don’t often see her pretending. She only fakes it when someone is around, smiling to hide her pain and fatigue. When no one else is looking, her behavior is revealing, candid, and raw.
- convey what they witness after seeing her misery and hearing her distress. There is more to her than her struggles and dark moments. They notice that she intercedes for others and sometimes even cries for them. They hear the music she plays, with lyrics of hope, praise, and inspiration, and the sermons filled with biblical principles and encouragement to persevere through tough times. They hear her speak positively, express gratitude, and even laugh.
- tell of the times they see a look of peace, a look that can come only from the inner work of God. She knows she can be honest before Him, realizing that He loves her unconditionally and accepts her completely, with all her difficulties. From her interactions and responses, it’s clear that He hears her cries, understands her desperation, comforts her heart, and sustains her spirit.
If her walls could talk, … they would
- reveal that she is genuine in her safe place. With no other eyes in the room, she’s a mix of despair and hope, inner conflict and victory, devastation and inspiration. In her home and before God, she can be her authentic self.
PRAYER
Dear Heavenly Father, I feel alone. No one seems to understand what I’m going through. Some don’t even believe what I tell them. Please reassure me with Your presence; I need to feel You near me. You see everything, and I find comfort in knowing You understand what I go through each day. In Jesus’ name I pray, amen.
QUESTIONS FOR REFLECTION
- Have you tried educating or sharing resources with those who don’t believe you?
- Do you make a point of focusing on those who do believe you and try not to take personally those who don’t?
- Have you forgiven those who have been insensitive toward you or haven’t believed you?

Laurie Glass
Staff Writer
Laurie holds a master's degree in Christian counseling and is the author of Coping with ME/CFS and Expressing Your Grief: Through Poems and Prayers. Many of her poems and articles have appeared in print and online. In 2019, she won the Open Medicine Foundation poetry contest. Laurie loves using her writing to encourage others.

Self-Care for your Soul
Spend a little time getting to know God better: who He is, what He’s like, how He feels about us, and how He acts toward His creation. Sabbath rest helps us discover the peace only found when we trust in God's presence.
This is a much needed message. Sometimes people say that I can’t possibly be hurting because I’m always smiling. I may smile, but I also may be in pain. I’m thankful for the folks who understand.
I have been helped and sobbed through reading this offering of truth in love and love in truth. I realize now I am far too hard on myself. I am in a newer normal now–one I never imagined being a part of.
Sadly, I walked away from church attendance 7 years ago due to declining health. I did listen to sermons and even had a presence on Facebook for a few years in ministry. I loved it and felt God’s calling in the Holy Spirit. Most were a few friends in my area, and others were from a support group for chronic illnesses. But I let it all go when my eyes troubled me so much.
My close friends suffer as well, and texting is usually all we do. My outings are limited with my husband, who has Parkinson’s, and one of my four local daughters. My health has unfortunately tanked further. I homeschooled four daughters all the way through, and we moved and had ministry times a good bit.
My only sib died last year, and we were only starting to reboot our relationship these last years. She lived in a different county. But we texted daily. Two of my closest friends died previously.
I no longer feel safe to drive, and sometimes my husband’s driving is not as I would like it to be.
I say all this knowing I need more support. At this juncture, my outreach is a weekly trip to the grocery store, where I let my light shine. So I am seeking and praying if it would be wise to return to church. Most people will not understand, but if only a few did, could it be worth a trial run?
Thank you for this excellent article that explains everything so well. I do have goals and ideas. Honestly, my three precious cats and my God spur me on forward one day at a time.
Thank you for this ministry and all that you offer. I tire far sooner than I like. But depending on Him to allow change for the better.
God bless you, Laurie, and everyone on their journeys, and the beautiful founders of Chronic Joy.
In His love,
Julie