Hope.
I can’t live without it, but yet when it disappoints, which it often does, it leaves me grieving.
Right now, I’m clinging to it. I saw a glimpse of what could be. Past realities tell me it won’t happen. Present realities make me doubt as well.
But, here’s the thing.
Lazarus was in the grave four days before Jesus came. Hope of his healing was buried with him. His family grieved. Jesus wept.
Jesus also died and was buried. He was in the grave for two days. Where was hope then?
Read more...I believe we each need to be advocates for our own health. I think there is a level of learning we all need to do in order to know the right questions to ask our health care providers. And then, when we don’t get the answers we are looking for, we knock on another door. That’s what I’m doing. I’ve learned enough to say enough is enough. I want to write my story differently and I’ve learned enough to know that it’s possible. I just needed to find the right person to help me move my mountain. I have hope I finally did. Hope that I can get to the root of my disease and live with more energy than I’ve had in a long time!
Eighteen. My daughter, my youngest, my second-born, is now eighteen. My husband and I are about to be empty-nesters. How is that even possible?
When my kids were little and the struggles were real, there were moments when I dreamed of them growing up. When I wished for more minutes for myself and hoped they’d become more independent, sooner rather than later.
You know the saying, be careful what you wish for? Well, I blinked, and my wish came true. I now have two very independent young adult children. I am so proud of who they are becoming. I know they still need me, but not in the same way, and I find myself with more minutes alone than I like.
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