The last time I posted was February when my friend Randy passed away. It does not seem all that long ago. And now, another friend has Stage 4 cancer & the future is uncertain. In the last two years, it feels like I've lost countless family & friends. Of course, that's not true. But even if it's counting the fingers on one hand, emotionally, it's too many. One of those number was my father. We remembered him in the second year of his passing in April.
What is it I want to say at this moment? It's this: I'm overwhelmed. I know people die every day, every where, throughout the world. They die of famine, they die in war, they die in the fight for freedom, change, religion. When one dies by choice, ready to count the cost, even it if the cost is death, that's one thing. The problem with those who die from illness is that we feel so helpless. It's not a cause. It's not choice.
Those I've lost to illness, fought the good fight. They never believed they would not live. And mercifully, some of those who left us, did so with the expectation that they would 'win', 'overcome', whatever the issue, whatever the ailment.
I know there comes a time when fighting is not the answer, when acceptance, and the peace that comes with the reconciliation of loss, is the course one has to take. I don't think getting to this place is an act of fatalism. On the contrary, I think it an act of courage preceded by grace. How do I know this? Because I've been there.
After they'd removed a large tumour, Staged 3B, the radiologist report indicated the cancer had come back, with a vengeance. I was preparing for the worse. I had to stop. I had to confront the end of my life. This was no easy task. I remember sitting in the dark at our dinning room table. My husband was asleep upstairs. I was completely alone. I prayed for grace. I had to accept that I might not live beyond the next few months if the radiologists report were true.
I can't say I saw a blinding light. No great emotions poured over me other than the prayer for grace. Grace to go through whatever lay ahead. Grace to accept whatever the future would bring. Grace to believe I was loved completely by Him who loves us so.
I turned off the lights & climbed the stairs to my bed. Before turning in, I turned to a book someone at my cancer clinic gave me. It was a compilation of readings from Hebrew Bible & the Christian New Testament. I opened "a" page, somewhere in the book. I read the following: I will restore your health & heal your wounds. In that moment, I felt grace. I felt peace. I rested in a promise--and have been resting ever since.
That was 10 years ago. I am so grateful for all the doctors protocols that saved my life. I am so grateful for all the prayers, the thoughts, the words of love; the fighting my husband did to get me the best care; the depth of compassion I felt from those who could say nothing to me without crying & those who smiled & hugged me. Grateful to the pragmatist who simply said, "Beth, we all die sometime".
It doesn't always turn out this way. The last two years have shown me this. But there is always hope, grace and love. And these three never die.
In Peace. LankaBlue2
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