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>I choose joy

January 26, 2010


Beautiful Becca

When my kids complain, I make them stop and start listing things that they are thankful for. Nobly, I try to refocus their little minds on things good and pure.

I just wish someone would make ME do that every once in a while.

It hasn’t been easy for me lately. A lot has happened – small, paltry things, yes, but they are rolling in like waves, one right after the other. Alone, they are surmountable. But en masse I’m finding myself weakened and vulnerable.

Sort of like emotional drip torture.

After a few months of this, my soul is a bit bruised, with two black eyes.

I might also add (confess) that I am an EXPERT at throwing parties.

I am the hostess with the mostess.
Pity parties, that is.
I don’t just revel, I wallow and stomp my mental foot and scream: “It’s not fair! why me?”

But it doesn’t take much to look around and see…there are so many others who could (should) be screaming the same but aren’t.

My friend Becca is one of those. She survived a bone-marrow transplant last year, but barely. What saved her life, at least for now, has weakened her body to such an extent that a life-threatening fungal infection has settled in to her shin. She has just undergone a surgery that will keep her in a wheelchair for a year.

A year, peple.

And it may not even work. She may lose her leg, or worse, her life.

Add to that: there are three young children 3 hours away, who have had to keep on with their daily duties without their mother and father. Who, time and time again, have come home from school to the news that mom and dad are headed back to the hospital, again. We’ll see you in a week, kids (or maybe not – that spectre is always there). How do you explain that to a five year old, I ask you?

Becca has every right to be an angry, bitter person.

But she’s not.

In her online journal, she signs off every post with “God is good.” She also wears it on a bracelet around her wrist. With the patience of Job, she gives God the glory, and submits to her fate, not knowing if this is her last year with her children, or, God-willing, she’ll have a few more.

And, oh yeah, her husband was laid off just months before her ALL diagnosis. And she lost her job right after. There’s that, too.

When people tell her she’s amazing and wow, they could never have done this, she and her husband look at each other and laugh (but not really): what choice do they have? What alternative?

John Lennon really nailed it: Life is what happens when you’re making other plans.

Life hasn’t been following my own personal plan of late. It’s veered off (my) course.

And, I have two choices: I can hang on, feel the wind in my hair and enjoy the ride, or I can sit in the back and pout.

I’ve decided to climb out of the backseat now.

Romans 8:28

2 Comments leave one →
  1. February 5, 2010 9:29 pm

    >Thank you for writing this, Adelle. I've been following Becca's journey and keeping her often in prayer, but like you, I haven't learned to give up my own pity parties even in the face of her example of courage and joy. Thanks for the gentle prod in the right direction! 🙂

  2. February 5, 2010 10:06 pm

    >Thank YOU for commenting, Sunni! : )

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