by Rev. Dr. Michelle Bodle
Editor’s Note: Illness tends to be discussed only in terms of what it takes away. However, illness can be reframed into an invitation – to pray, to slow down, and to see life in a new way. This is the first of a two part series on reframing illness in life.
I wasn’t too far into serving my second church when my body started to rebel. I rapidly lost weight, was incredibly tired, and was in constant pain. I was shuttled from doctor to doctor, but the reality was I found myself in a new community, with a limited support system, facing some pretty terrifying possibilities for diagnoses. However, that season of the body’s unpredictability brought with it something I never would have imagined: the stability of community.
2012 was by far not the first time I struggled with illness. Growing up, I was diagnosed with scoliosis in middle school and polycystic ovarian syndrome in high school. The chief difference with this illness was that I was away from my support network. I lived several hours away from my family and my doctors. I was an adult, trying to live into the demands of two churches, along with the demands that I placed on myself for the vocation. I was working through the ordination process. And it was into the fullness of this version of life that the unknown of illness entered.
But with the lack of answers about what was happening in my body came three couples who truly took care of me. They were members of the church who I met through Bible Study, who went above and beyond in their care- which not all church communities do, but clergy are blessed when they are at churches that care for their pastors. They became surrogate grandparents and parents, checking in, making sure I was okay, and encouraging me to take care of myself. They became the respite in the midst of the storm – an anchor I knew that I could call on when I was having a difficult day. It was even one of these couples who remembered that a parsonage family several years prior had had similar symptoms to mine, and that they had traced it back to the well. While that wasn’t the case for me, her attentiveness to both details and me was a sign of her compassion.
Eventually, I received a diagnosis of irritable bowel syndrome (IBS). A diagnosis of exclusion with few forms of treatment, especially for my presentation. I needed to learn how to listen to my body and actually rest. What comes up from time to time, I refer to as a flare-up – the pain and symptoms rushing back, often without any warning. I’ve tried to notice patterns and avoid foods that could trigger a flare-up, but the information isn’t always clear or consistent. When a flare does come, I need to eat different foods, take different medication, and above all else, slow down.
I am not naturally slow. I move at top speeds throughout the day, trying to shove as much into my calendar as I can. I detest having to cancel a meeting on my calendar, feeling like I’m breaking a commitment that I made to another person. Yet, illness does not care. The body needs rest in order to recover, and I have found over the years that trying to push myself to keep up with my expectations and calendar achieves nothing beyond delayed healing. It is in these moments that I remember that the Sabbath is made for humans and that the body needs time to simply rest and recover – not because it is earned, but because we are loved.
There is also the uncomfortable nature of having to explain the impact of illness as I move from congregation to congregation. It is like I need to tell the story of my body all over again, being vulnerable and disclosing some of the hardest moments I’ve experienced. But in taking the risk of that disclosure, I also think back to those three lovely couples and remember that this is a moment for me to allow people to care for me as I care for them. For better or worse, IBS is not my only struggle with food. I also have difficulty digesting meat products due to a lack of enzymes. To explain this to people in everyday terms, I say I have an allergy. That if I eat certain foods, I become very ill, so I need to be extra careful, which means at times I’m going to ask what is in a dish or not be able to eat what they make at a potluck. Most people are understanding. Some are not and try to push the issue. When that happens, I find myself longing for those three families from 2012, who really took care of me and wanted me to be well.
Illness is going to continue to be a negotiation for me. It will continue to be a reminder to slow down and pay attention to my body. But it is also a call to be both an advocate for what I need with my congregation and open to the vulnerability of receiving care and help. Such are the invitations of illness in my life.
Rev. Dr. Michelle Bodle serves as an ordained elder in the United Methodist Church in State College, PA. She is also the owner of Abide in the Spirit which strives to create sacred spaces of holy listening. She is a 2011 graduate of Drew Theological School (Mdiv) and 2022 graduate of Wesley Theological Seminary (Dmin).
