Does My Back Say “Kick Me”?

Another post from my phone as I wait to hear back from the car dealership. My car has been recalled because, apparently, I’ve been driving around a ticking time-bomb in the form of an airbag that could shatter and kill me for eight years. Actually, Jason’s been driving it lately because I can’t and his won’t start anymore. I always wondered why the airbags didn’t go off when we got rear-ended a couple years ago because I know my face hit the steering wheel. Now I know that God kept us safe. Anyway…

This week’s pile-up of issues could almost be laughable. More like the “I can’t believe this is happening so I don’t know how to react” kind of laugh. Nine days of the flu wreaking havoc on a body that I already thought couldn’t survive anymore. Add to that relationship issues, extra financial strain due to unexpected illness expense, and a canceled visit from my parents because they didn’t want to catch the plague, of course. And then Sunday happened. Jason started not feeling well so I worried I’d passed the flu to him (doesn’t appear so now, praise God). Then we found out our bank account had been hacked. No, we haven’t been to a movie theater in Kansas, thank you very much. We had just finished dealing with that issue when…SMACK! An egg hit our porch.


At that point I kind of felt like I was truly being egged by life. I didn’t even have the strength to be angry anymore. I just felt hurt. I couldn’t figure out what we had done to someone to make them want to egg our house (we figured out later who it was and think he was just throwing eggs from his porch and ours was perfect proximity so no one hates us that much, I guess). I felt vulnerable and unsafe. And something much more worrisome happened later that I’m not sure I’m allowed to talk about, so there’s your vague-blogging for the day. My heart felt like it had been pulverized and I was too weak to even obsess anymore.

What’s been so interesting is that instead of complete despair, I’ve had tiny glimmers of something else. I have a small sense in my spirit that this is kind of like my death. I can’t imagine surviving anything else but I’ve definitely been wrong over the last week. But it just feels so much like the death of everything. The lowest of the low. And right now I’m not panicking about it. I feel just a little bit of this rare fruit, peace. I’ve had a tiny, whispering  thought that it’s time for the beginning of my resurrection. Only God knows if it’s true but I’m ready whenever He is.

That photo is from the writers of Hope When It Hurts ( and they happened to share it on Facebook this week. On Sunday I found myself lying here in agony but quietly singing every song I could think of until I got too tired. I’m thankful it sunk in that this small offering was enough for God. I don’t have to find strength for anything else right now. I am very thankful He loves me like this. His timing is amazing and His plans are too complicated and beautiful for my brain, but I’m thankful He has them. I was mad that my disability attorney canceled my appointment at the last minute but now I know that if I had gone, I’d have passed on the flu to others. I was mad that the flu lasted far longer than I expected but if it hadn’t, something else unpleasant would have happened. There are so many questions I have but right now I don’t seem to be clinging to them quite so hard. I’m either too exhausted or finally experiencing the peace that passes understanding. I like to think it’s the latter. God knows what He is doing. I don’t know how He will restore everything but I’m looking forward to the resurrection.

Song I’m feeling: I Cry Out (, one of the songs I sang from my ‘deathbed’. This song never gets old to me. I learned it at camp as a kid and have sung it for many years. I remember Vespers at college, and church not that many years ago. It’s timeless. I wish I could find a version with more singers because the descant is beautiful. This song speaks my heart right now.

I cry out for Your hand of mercy to heal me. I am weak and I need Your love to free me. Oh, Lord, my Rock, my Strength in weakness. Come rescue me, oh Lord. You are my hope and Your promise never fails me and my desire is to follow You forever. For You are good, for You are good, for You are good to me.”

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Author: Karina Baker

Hello, my dear friends! Glad to see you here. Thank you for reading about my beautiful rubble - my struggles with life, faith, and autoimmunity. Feel free to share your stories in the comments. My love and prayers to all of you!

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