Let me be honest. I am not yet the person that you may think I am. Many of you, after reading something I have written here, have messaged me with words of support. I can't tell you how encouraging that is for me. Thank you! Often, though, you will say things like, "Your faith is so strong" or "You are an example to us all." Spoiler alert: it isn't and I'm not. Honestly. Writing this blog is one of the ways that I can emotionally untangle the threads of the story that I am in. It is an avenue on which I stand tiptoed, straining to catch glimpses that can help me understand all the terrible and beautiful of this tapestry that is daily life. It is in that glimpsing and untangling that God gifts me with aspirations, with hopes. Those graciously given aspirations and hopes along with the unwavering love of the Gift Giver, form the writing that is here. I aspire to trust and have faith. I hope to be thankful for each day. I want to be strong even when I a
Teach us O Lord to number our days, that we may get a heart of wisdom. Ps 90:12 I've mentioned the idea of numbering our days, several times on this blog. Last week, I found myself numbering my days during a six day hospital stay in Calgary. I mean literally numbering my hospital days. This hospitalization was to get me started on a new course of treatment with a drug that had potentially life-threatening side effects on the first doses*. During that hospital stay you could certainly find me counting down the days I had left in that fifth floor room. 4 more days if all goes well. 3 more days.... 2 more.... Counting down one's days, when it comes to a hospital stay, might work, but for me it is a dangerous strategy for life. This very well could be the last treatment they can find for me. Whether I want to or not, that leads me to speculate how many days I might have left. One night in the hospital I actually found myself thinking, " Well, that's one less day of re