Isn’t that the truth?!
Some days you just chug along in hopes that night will come and morning
will bring new light. For a reason
or reasons unknown to me, I feel to share the reality of my situation on a
personal level.
Every day is difficult. I try to be positive and uplifting and convey hope to those
around me, but that does not diminish the physical and emotional turmoil
beneath the surface. With that said, I do not write this in a moment of
distress in an attempt to gain pity; for those who are acquainted with me know
how I despise “pity eyes.” So,
from a logical and emotionally stable standpoint, I explain some of the trials
I face branched from the invasive onset of cancer.
I would find anyone naïve who assumes I am constantly happy
and radiate hope. I do not, even
if that is what you believe. What
an easy and simple concept to understand yet so difficult to practice,
especially when faced with a situation that dims and mystifies personal,
long-term plans. My pillow has
been wetted with many tears in pondering my future, or rather absence of. I have an incurable disease. My life span is 1.5-6 years. The hopeful perspective declares loudly
in my mind that the number of years I am alive is insignificant because Gods
promises will reach beyond the grave.
Yes I understand and believe this truth, however knowledge does not
obliterate sorrow and suffering. I
have tools to be happy and overcome whatever depression dares approach, but that requires spiritual and emotional strength, which I do not always
possess. I am somewhat ashamed to
admit that I have let despair get the best of me on more than one
occasion.
Despair is not a pleasant destination, yet a real consequence
from decisions. Aside from those
suffering from mental illnesses, I am a firm believer that our state of mind is
what we choose it to be. Yes, I
have chosen to entertain thoughts of despair when I felt I did not have the
strength to maintain equilibrium.
I would not wish those feelings upon anyone; however, in those moments,
I was taught the virtue of charity by those who so lovingly and angelically
carried me. Family and friends,
and on occasion strangers, unknowingly reeled me back to reality. On most occasions a note, a visit, a
phone call or small token was received in answer to a pleading prayer for
hope. I want to thank all the
angels who have been there for me when only God knew I needed uplifting. I could not, cannot and have not faced
this challenge alone.
Elder Jeffrey
R. Holland speaks more eloquently than myself when regarding angels among us,
“When we speak of those who are instruments in the hand of God we are reminded
that not all angels are from the other side of the veil…Heaven never seems
closer than when we see the love of God manifested in the kindness and devotion
of people so good and so pure that angelic is the only word that comes to
mind.”
Thank you to my angels.
On a medical note, everything is going well. Big momma may lose the privilege of having the word "big" in her title if we continue on the same path. I will meet
with the doctor again in 2 months for a checkup and scans.
