​A few weeks ago Kelsie came upstairs and said, "Um, Jeff. The carpet is wet on my side of the bed." Her announcement came after a week of gentile soaking rains, followed by a night of torrential downpours.

After a week of mopping and sopping, tearing up carpet, pulling out drywall, fans, dehumidifiers water finally quit coming into our basement. 

Then it poured again. 

There has been only one day in May without rain in Colorado Springs. Kind of a switch for a city with rainfall totals similar to a desert. And while there are things we can do to resolve the problem, there is nothing we can do until the ground dries out, except bail water. 

One night, after staying up all night cleaning up water every fifteen minutes... again, it occurred to me; this is like a chronic illness. 
There is an initial shock, fear and concern. It impacts the entire family. You take actions to compensate for the problem. At some point, the depressing reality of the daily struggle sets in, "I'm exhausted. There's no end in sight. This is my life now."

This is what life has been for my dad as he's cared for my mom for 13 years with Alzheimer's. This is what life has been for Nancy as she's dealt with chronic fatigue. This is what it's like for folks who deal with chronic pain, who may look fine on the outside, but internally are suffering silently. 
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We can cope with most anything when we know there is an end date. It's the ongoing struggle, when we feel trapped and powerless, that is so debilitating.

Hope for my basement returns with the sun. It's the promise of the Son's return that brings hope to those who battle daily with chronic suffering.