It is in dying that we move to eternal life.
Like most people, I paid lip service to that phrase for most of my life. "Sure," I said. "Makes sense. Have to be reborn, you know, to understand everything. Uh-huh."
I took pride and pleasure in my own strength, and in my own rude health, and thought that sun would never set.
And I thought that if id did set, well, I'd somehow magically get it.
It's dark now. And I somehow, magically, got it.
Ten years ago a surgery gone wrong set loose a chain of events that have led to this day, when something inside my gut is slowly killing me, to the accompaniment of pain that I would never have believed anyone, much less me, could have endured.
It was the best thing that ever happened to me. It made my faith complete.
I know God cares. I hope He'll heal me, but that depends on whether or not it lies within His purpose. Since I don't know His purpose, I don't know what'll happen.
Hasn't happened yet - but every day He's given me the strength, and comfort to go on. It would be easy to give up, mentally - to just say, "It's over. Nothing to aim at, because obviously, there's no time."
Forget the dreams you had when you were healthy.
But I didn't. And I don't. I'm generally a pretty grim person, when you get to know me, and not a Mary-Poppins-Sunshine-on-my-Shoulders-Everything-is-Beautiful sort of guy. I studied war for years, and it studied me.
I haven't given up, and I'm so surprised! It's God, of course.
There's a good chance that I'll be unable to get pain medication in the near future. new laws require expensive blood tests every three months - and not having insurance, there's just no way.
But God will provide the strength to get through that, too.
I wouldn't have been able to see, and live all of this, if my health had stayed intact.
Thank God it didn't.