Heavy Heart. Heavier Hands.


I wish I could just get rid of you.

If I ignore you long enough, maybe you’ll just go away. *Backspace. Backspace. Delete. Hit the spacebar like I’m playing ‘whack-a-mole.’*

You stink, hands.


You used to be my friends. You could curl around a softball and whip it from the fence to home plate in seconds flat. You could braid the finest hair and tie a ponytail before I even finished a sentence. Come on. What the heck is happening to you?! *Backspace. Delete. Delete.*

You are heavy.

You can’t bend right. Your fingers are weird. They snap and pop and curl. They’re lazy. They’re sleeping. They’re weird. You are numb. You fall on the keyboard like Frankenstein walking. You stomp the keys like each knuckle is weighted. You’re swollen. You are ugly. Your skin is cracked and dry, And it hurts to make a fist, because your skin doesn’t even fit you anymore. Squeezing you tightly is like trying to stretch a rubber glove around a basketball.

You stink, hands.

You stink.

If I just fight past it and pretend you’re not failing me, I think you’ll go away. you’ll stop this ickiness and wake up again. You have to wake up again. I have things to do.

I am tired of you. I don’t want to wedge you under my leg anymore, trying to lay you flat – trying to make you feel well again. I don’t want to stretch you out all day and night, hoping that this will be the last time before something miraculous happens.

You stink, hand. You just stink.

I think back to when I’d ‘hit the gym’. How you were simple tools in executing my agenda. You just did whatever I wanted – whatever I needed. You were mine, and you worked. You are no longer mine. You hate me and don’t work for me anymore. But maybe if I just pretend that you do, you will, and we’ll be a team again. I keep thinking that I’ll fix you. I’ll start running again. I’ll do push-ups and jumping jacks. I’ll pick up a paintbrush or ride a bike, and somehow all of that ‘normal’ stuff will pump a whole lot of ‘normal’ back into your veins.

I know I can’t just get rid of you, but I sure wish that I could. I know I can’t fix you, but I sure want to. As much as I can’t stand you, I could cry over you. I miss you. If you get better, then it’ll be a miracle, and you know what?

I believe in those.

I believe I will have my hands again.

Praying for all of you struggling with sjogrens/rheumatoid arthritis/psoriatic arthritis/eczema/autoimmune disease symptoms. They’re not normal. They’re not of God or from God, but their healing will be for His glory.

And these dysfunctional hands type, “Amen.” (Edited to add that my updated testimony can be found by clicking the words “UPDATED TESTIMONY” just above the original video! GOD IS SO GOOD!!!! Be encouraged!)


video009 from Kristi D Klover House on Vimeo.
 photo a9de1fdb-52d3-4604-a79d-ba7ee6db5adb_zps8f990315.jpg


  1. says

    Sweet, friend. Know that I am praying for you. I wish there was something more that I could do. Take the pain away. Have your girls come over for a play date. Bring you dinner. Something. Love you!

  2. says

    Well- I am tearing up with you, my friend. Prayers for you. You are such an amazing, special person, Kristi. I've been blessed to know you since we weren't even 'teens' yet and I've been blessed to call you friend for as long as I've known you. Lord, Heal her. Make her strong. Let her hands be strong and healthy enough to carry her babies and tie their shoes and write them notes. Let her feel no more pain. In your name we pray…

  3. says

    Oh Kristi, you made me cry which makes it even harder to make dinner. From the first paragraph where you talk about what your hand used to be able to do, I knew where you were going b/c I feel it every day too. I have Rheumatoid Arthritis (RA) and have had it since my first son was born, 12 years ago. In those happy weeks of being a new first-time mom, my body flared and was attacked with RA. At it's worst, I couldn't walk, I couldn't unbuckle him from his car seat without crying. I am thankful that my medicines keep the pain in tolerable control but after years of RA, the damage has been done. I cry looking at your hands and wish mine were still like that, able to straighten out. I have learned to adapt though, and I try to stay positive for my family's sake. Some days are harder than others and when I have a hard day, I don't and can't push myself. I am so glad to hear that many of your Sjorgens symptoms have been relieved and I will continue to pray for healing of your hands as well. I started my blog as a way to keep positive in the light of RA, I do hope you'll stop by and visit. While I haven't talked of RA much on my blog, know that behind all those words is someone who understands, who cries with you and prays for you. May God give you the strength and healing you need. Thanks for being brave enough to share your story.

    • says

      Thank you so much for commenting and letting me know about your struggles as well. IT's something that no one can truly grasp unless they are afflicted as well, and it just sucks – to put it bluntly. I totally get it, and I can say that these 'small victories' are actually huge feats! I applaud you. It's a task to even type every day, and in these days, that's how ppl communicate. I hate texting b/c it makes my fingers ache, yet that's what everyone does. It takes forever to cut butter (?!), button a shirt, brush teeth… I know this issues are not meant to be, and as a mom, they simply don't have a place in our lives. I will lift you up in prayer. I pray we are healed fully in Jesus' name. Thank you for leaving your blog address; I'll be a frequent visitor for sure! xoxo

  4. says

    Thank you for sharing this – I cry with you. I was diagnosed with RA in January and I completely understand the anger – I'm still there. My daughter even tells me she "hates my RA" because it affects me and how much I can do with and for her. My hands are the worst too from the RA. I admire the way that you have worked through your anger and have taken control of your wellness. I hope I get to that point, the anger and the grieving over what is happening to me is hard to get through. Thank you for sharing this – it gives me hope that I can emotionally making it through this disease. Thank you so much.

    • says

      Thank you for stopping by and leaving a comment, Alecia. I am sorry to hear that you are struggling with this as well. It's a terrible, terrible thing to lose function of your hands. It absolutely affects what I'm able to do with my kids throughout the day, and that leads to a lot of anger and guilt as a mom. I pray that you will be healed. I will continue to share anything that I find that helps, and I hope you'll do the same. God said that Jesus heals ALL of our diseases, and I am hoping to see that manifest in our lives.

  5. says

    I was not familiar with this, but I just read more about it after watching your video. I'm so sorry to hear of what you're going through, I pray you find some relief.

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