I Don't Want to Forget
I’ve learned some fresh lessons over the past weeks of illness.
I’ve gained a clearer understanding
of how isolating and emotionally debilitating chronic pain is,
and have a new heart-deep empathy for my friends
who deal with invisible pain every day.
My eyes have been opened
to the speed with which sickness or injury
can squeeze a busy, independent, productive, out-going life
into an existence of uncertainty, frailty and fear.
I’ve been jolted alert to the reality
that much of what I usually consider essential-to-my-schedule
is so very, very non-essential.
And I've learned that rest is essential...
as well as wonderful.
I’ve learned that
the presence of God with me is real,
even, or perhaps especially,
when I'm too confused to think anything except,
“Lord, have mercy.
Lord, have mercy.”
I’ve realized over and over again
– as my friends and family members "dropped everything" to take care of me
--that those who say they love me,
really truly do.
And that I have friends with whom I can entrust my life.
three weeks since my illness began,
I'm cautiously hopeful that I’m starting to get better.
I believe I am getting better.
I fervently pray,
along with those who've prayed so fervently for me...
that I'll soon be completely, fully well.
When I'm well once again,
when I'm strong,
when I'm productive,
and when the calendar events press in once again...
I'll celebrate my new gratitude for the simple gift of life.
And when I'm well,
when I'm celebrating life...
I pray I remember the lessons I learned in the darkness.