There is Always Something to be Grateful For

a poem of bitterness and gratitude 

I wrote this poem during a time of deep struggle, striving to find gratitude and perspective amidst hardship. In my mid-twenties, an undiagnosed and crippling illness disrupted my plans, taking my husband and me from full-time ministry to barely managing to attend church. I also reflect on my son’s health challenges—from failure to thrive as an infant to a possible PANDAS* diagnosis, and solar urticaria (an allergy to the sun that caused him to be unable to go outside for more than 90 seconds at a time). My hope is that this poem brings comfort and perspective to those facing similar trials.

Tiffany Noelle Chacon, Florida churches 

Body aches, muscles tight.
At twenty-five, the cane in my left hand shines like a neon light, flashing with the words:
I am broken. Look at me. Broken. 

New church, who dis?
Sitting in a pew. Alone. 
Why won’t anyone come talk to me?

I am broken. 

How often I’ve been the one to speak to newbies.
Now it’s my turn. But there is no one. 

I used up all my energy, all my proverbial spoons, just to get to church. 

Now there’s nothing left. 

I don’t even have the energy to hide in the bathroom.
So I hide here, in plain sight, for no one to see me. 

I am broken. 

And yet, in the darkness there’s still light.
In the pain, I feel You shining bright.

There is always something to be grateful for. 

Praise God for days I get to walk.
Days when the cane doesn’t tether me to my brokenness.
Praise God for the days that, even in the pain, I see Him. I feel Him. He is with me. 

Yes, I’m broken. But I’m visible to Him who sees everything. 

Praise God for the days when I see: I am an object lesson.
I was too busy in my “righteousness” to see how broken I really was. 
Broken without the cane and the pain. 

So He broke me, even more.
He broke me physically. And it healed me spiritually.
My pain is a reminder that I am dependent on Him who gives life and breath to everything.
If I walk, it’s because He allowed it.
If I don’t, it’s because He said no. 

Praise God for the walking days and the not-walking days. 

Praise God for the days when I get a text from a friend: how are you feeling?
Praise God for the days I am alone—because I’m never, really, alone.

On to motherhood, journeying scared.
The first of my friends, the least qualified. 

Tiny hands. A mouth that cries before it smiles. 
Can they really let me go home with him?

Days and nights of learning, growing.
Tired and happy.
Sleepless and emptied.
Yet somehow still full. 

They take everything and give nothing, and yet I am content.
Empty mama, full spirit.

But why oh why won’t he sleep?
Why won’t he gain weight?
Didn’t know there was something less than the curve. 

The days bleed into one another.
Doctor after doctor.
Strange diagnoses, even stranger prescriptions.
For me, for him.
Oh God, that I would take his pain! Put it on me, not on him. 

Strange bumps and awkward movements.
Tics and OCD.
Migraines and Covid and RSV.
Sun allergy in the Sunshine State.
Antibiotics and homeopathy. 

Wondering when it will all end.
Will he be sick, just like me?
He can’t wear clothes like the other kids do.
And it breaks my mama heart. 

Oh God, that I would take his pain! Put it on me, not him. 

And yet, And yet, in the darkness there’s still light.
In the uncertainty, I feel You shining bright.

There is always something to be grateful for. 

Morning snuggles and lots of smiles.
Homeschooling and books, books, books.
He loves to read, as do I.

A sweet child, aware of others’ pain.
Would this have happened, without the lesson in the cane?

Ninety seconds in the sun, was all he could stand. 
Then two minutes, five.
Tears of joy when we make it to lucky number fifteen.
Then twenty, even thirty. 

God, you are teaching him. So young.
What took me thirty years to know: that you are sovereign.
You give, you take away. 

But you are always still good.
You are always still God.

There is always something to be grateful for.

Playmakers Bowl, a milestone event for me.
For ten long years, I sat on the sidelines while friends played. 
It mocked me: you are too broken for this. 
And you always will be. 

But at thirty-five—too old to play!—I lace up my cleats and get on the field.
I praise God for this,
and the cane days that came after, too. 

Because one thing I’ve learned: it rains on the righteous and unrighteous.
There is good and bad.
Cleat days and cane days.
Sick days and well days.
And every-day-God-is-good days. 

I take the good with the bad because it’s molding me to be
The person God ultimately has in store for me. 

And at the end of the Day, it’ll all be taken away: the bad and the ugly, the pain and the tears, the loneliness and the un-seen-ness. 

And when that Day comes, I want to be able to say: I loved you and praised you on the good AND the bad.
The cleat days and the cane days.
I faltered, yes, but I stood firm because I know there’s always something to be grateful for. 

And that “something” is YOU.
You’re good and you’re true.
You’re right by my side when I need You. 

No matter what’s happened,
no matter what occurs,
I know that You’ll carry me through. 

There’s always something to be grateful for. 

* PANS PANDAS is a disease that affects children and results in symptoms such as obsessive compulsive behaviours, tics, anxiety, urinary problems (such as wetting or enuresis) and eating problems including difficulty swallowing or eating restriction. The symptoms usually occurr suddenly in a child that has previously developed normally. Some parents describe it as “like a switch has been thrown”. A survey of the patients treated by the Children’s e-Hospital has shown that the commonest symptoms are tics and obsessive compulsive behaviour. The term PANS PANDAS actually encompasses 2 disease processes; PANS & PANDAS. These diseases are immune mediated and some health professionals refer to them as “Immune Mediated Behavioural Change“.

Tiffany Noelle Chacon is a South Florida native who became a disciple in 2001. She graduated summa cum laude from the University of Florida, where she and her middle school sweetheart, Tyler Chacon, married in 2009. After serving in campus ministry in Gainesville, they moved to Tampa for graduate school. Tiffany holds a Master of Fine Arts in Creative Writing and is passionate about writing clean, uplifting romance novels. Follow her on Instagram (@authortiffanynoellechacon) or visit her website at tiffanynoellechacon.com.