The last 2 two years have been the hardest, in my living memory. I’ve felt elated and abandoned. Strong and exhausted. Felt the presence of God and stony silence.
Much of what I’ve been through, I felt, doesn’t make sense. I’ve argued, bargained, rationalized and went still.
Be good and you get good, right? Isn’t that how it should be? But then, God, as I’m discovering, is more interested in our character than our comfort (Rick Warren).
By grace, I’ve become more outward looking. Your own problems seem insignificant when you take a good, hard look at someone else’s suffering. And your life, a bed of roses, in comparison with someone else’s.
It’s been a month, since I’ve been visiting children living with cancer, at a cancer institute nearby. These are kids, of all ages, shapes and sizes, sharing a ravaging disease in common – at different stages of invasion. They seem bright-eyed, eager to learn and content in their little drawings, games and stories – unaware of the devastation within their bodies. They know only joy, innocence and the daily routine of medications, which they handle in a matter-of-fact way.
They’re from different parts of the country, different schools that they don’t go any longer to, and different families – each with a private grief of its own.
Being part of their joy adds to mine, as I bring them books, help them read, write, draw, play with blocks, color and sing. Do they ponder why they lose hair, have bulging stomachs and protruding veins.. I find myself wondering what goes on in the little expanse of their guileless hearts and look up to see an ear-to-ear melting smile..
I don’t know what tomorrow holds – but knowing I’m significant, of great and eternal worth with a purpose while here on earth, gives me strength to plough on and face tomorrow. Whether or not I have the answers to all questions – disappointment with God is better than disappointment without God.
“This is the true joy of life: the being used up for a purpose recognized by yourself as a mighty one, being a force of nature, instead of a feverish, selfish little clot of ailments and grievances, complaining that the world will not devote itself to making you happy” (George Bernard Shaw)
(These kids can use storybooks and funds – if you find it in your heart to contribute – please drop me a line)
