My Book My Story

People ask the odd time how am I doing? Sometimes I'm reluctant to share.

Why?

1.Because I don't want you to fix me

2.Because my story is different than yours

3.Because I don't want to be judged

4. Because making myself vulnerable opens myself up to being hurt

5. Because sometimes it's just gut wrenching painful and there are no words to describe it

6.Because even though you ask me your body language tells me you really don't want to know

 

I've been called all sorts of things this week. Painful things. And I wonder because we are all created so different, why can't we celebrate our differences, and still accept each other. Can we only help others on our own terms? The way we think it should be done, or look like?

 If we were to share our story from birth until now every plot, climax ,dream, hope would be different for all of us.

 

When I was faced with chemo I had no Sayer's, vocal words -that's poison would never do that to my body-oh really so my prayers and thought patterns are not right? You should only go natural -just put in your body what belongs to the earth. I know people who have died just going natural, and I know people who have died doing chemo. I was faced with the challenge of life or death. And when you are faced with a decision it's your story , your book, not yours to tell someone what choice to make.You wouldn't believe the guilt I carried sometimes from well meaning people.

 

So was my decision all good? Of course not . Is cancer good? Of course not.

Have I suffered through side affects? Yes . Am I still suffering? Yes.

My bones still ache, I get muscles spasm's-like someone just gave me a massive pinch. My memory struggles, seriously -not ageing memory struggles. I can only tolerate my book keeping for short hours at a time. And I'm extremely fatigued all the time.

 

Where does that leave me? Life goes on. I work hard at getting up everyday and being thankful that this is the day that the Lord has made. As long as there is breath in me I will love, and push myself to help others. Does everyday for me look beautiful, no, am I thankful for everyday yes. My weakness has lead me to compassion. And when the world is hurting so do I.

Do I always do this well? No. It's a path I'm choosing and learning to walk this way.

Is my book is far from finished?  The author of my life is Jesus Christ, only He knows how it ends.