Perspective

My SIL, Cathy sent this to me. Cathy lost a beloved daughter to cancer in 2002. She still does a lot of fund raising for the children’s cancer group that supported her family when Crystal was sick. The following is a letter from Helen Mills, a woman who spoke at a recent fund raising event for that cancer support group. I thought it was just beautiful. It certainly gave me some much needed perspective.

Galatians 5:13 says “. . . serve one another in love.”

I made my children memorize this when they were little. It was a tool, meant to help them to stop fighting and get along better. In making them memorize this, I was trying to teach my children a valuable lesson. Instead, I learned one myself.

The other day, I ran into a friend from college that I hadn’t seen in a while. She was distraught – she had a new health issue that would require her to take medication every day for the rest of her life. Before this illness, she had been completely healthy and hesitated even about taking Tylenol. She resented having to take a pill every day.

For a fraction of a moment, I almost judged her. I almost said “Hey, do you realize who you are complaining to?” But then, I remembered what Jesus had said about casting stones, and I realized that I, myself, had been in her shoes not so long ago, and I almost let the very same thing ruin my life.

Change can be a devastating thing.

Close to a decade ago, I was a highly independent workaholic. I had aches and pains, but nothing serious, and never took so much as an aspirin, unless it was desperately needed. I had a job, volunteered at my older kids schools regularly (and went on every field trip), all while raising a toddler and keeping up the house.

Then, one day, while shopping at a store, something fell off of a shelf and hit me in the head. That day changed my life forever.

It took me years to learn to adjust to the permanent neurological damage caused by that injury. The adjustment was mostly my own fault, though, as I didn’t want to depend on medications and didn’t want to believe that I truly needed them. I became withdrawn and depressed and truly believed that my life was over because of the pain and limitations. There was a lawsuit, but, by the time all was said and done, the attorney fees and medical bills were covered with little left over. The doctor said I had a permanent disability, but the government didn’t agree, so I became a burden to my husband and my children, who had to tighten the budget and take care of the household chores themselves. I believed that I was useless, and so, I became useless.

Then, something happened that made me forget all of my woes. My little boy was diagnosed with cancer, and all at once, I understood those news stories where mothers suddenly summoned the strength to lift things like cars with their bare hands, in order to free their child. Suddenly, my baby was in pain, and all of my woes were quickly shed, my own agony forgotten. Somehow, I gained the strength to drive a car to and from Orlando several times a week, to sleep on a hospital cot for nine months, to stay awake for days at a time keeping watch, and to study research with the tenacity of a medical student. I downed my handful of pills every night, ashamed of the self pity that I had allowed to consume me for so long. Those pills, once a symbol of my weakness, suddenly became a symbol of the strength of love. Never again will I allow circumstances to dictate my actions.

I’ve learned to look for the good in my life, even when it isn’t apparent. That is the greatest gift I have ever received.

Thank you, God, for my weaknesses. Thank you for turning them into my strengths.