October 2, 2013
I didn’t want to write; I don’t want to write. However, my sister said it might just help. I’ll give it a shot.
To whom much is given, much is expected.
Yes, this I know. I have been given so many blessings in my life. I have so much in my life to be thankful for that it seems completely selfish of me to want anything more. And I know that much is expected of me. That is why I have always held myself out to be as strong as I possibly could be. But, sometimes you just have to…
Let go and let God.
And I am struggling with that right now, dear readers. I am praying and praying. And my prayers are not for me. I know I will be OK; a little worse for wear, but OK nonetheless. I pray for my tutor, my friend, my love, my Egyptian prince: ESS. I pray that he not be in much pain, but I know that he is suffering. I know what kind of pain he is in because I saw the ravages of this same disease inflicted upon my daughter.
Talk about irony, right dear Readers? Seriously, who knew that after it took me 26 years to recover from my daughter’s death that the man I love would fall victim to the same disease and inevitably face the same horrible death? How tragic is that, dear Readers?
I guess I did learn something in those 26 years of grieving: I don’t want to grieve another 26 years.. Now just in case any of my children are reading this, I’m not thinking of taking my life, so get that out of your head. What I am saying is that somewhere in the deep, dark, recess of my soul, somewhere further back than what is noticed, I want to live.
That which doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.
I am one of the strongest people I know. I am highly blessed and divinely favored. God did not put me on this earth to wither on the vine. He put me here for a purpose. He put me here so that I might make a difference. He put me here to be a leader. He put me here because He knew I would be a strong warrior. He put me here because He loved me and He knew I would love Him back. As I have stated before dear Readers, when I love, I love fiercely.
God never gives us more than we can handle.
Some years after my daughter died, my dad told me that. He said that he admired me for being as strong as I was. He said that he knew I could handle anything God gave me. He also said that the reason God had never taken one of my dad’s children was because God knew my dad could not handle something like that.
Well, God must think I can handle a whole lot of emotional pain. And in the end, He is right. I can handle a great deal of emotional pain. I will see my way clear of this mind-numbing, spirit-crushing, physically debilitating emotional pain, and I will be the better for it.
I would like to invite you dear Readers, to view a little something I put together last night. It seems I’m not getting much sleep these days (good thing I’m on fall break) and I need to try and work through my pain. Some people may choose to pussyfoot around the pain, not me, I plough right through it. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SXqpkZt_ERQ&feature=youtu.be I hope you enjoy it dear Readers, because for one, brief, shining moment, I did. Peace, ~v.