I'm not feeling well today. My body has been in shambles for a few weeks and I'm procrastinating on doctors appointments because...I don't know. The doctors haven't been able to heal my chronic pain for years, so I've just about given up. Stomach ulcers, debilitating acid reflux, asthma, chest pains--the list goes on and as I age, I'm forced to come to terms with my mortality. Today, I thought a lot about death. As I sat in my office at the church, I thought, "Am I dying?" "Is this what a slow, painful death feels like?"
I've always been obsessed with death--with what happens in the finals days and final moments of life. I'm really intrigued by people who document their terminal illnesses, letting us into their very personal conversations with God and with themselves in their last days, weeks, months, and years. I've read countless cancer blogs and I've watched people video log their lives up until their last breath. Weird, I know. But what I love about them--the people who are no longer with us--is how real and how honest they are...were--with themselves and with the world.
I desire to have that kind of honesty, which is, perhaps, why I write. If I were to die tomorrow, I'd want the world to look back at this blog and say, "Thank you for being so real." I'd want people to know that even in moments of despair, joy is possible. I'd want people to feel empowered to talk about their pain--to let their triumph be the catalyst for someone else's breakthrough. I suppose I'm avoiding going to the doctor because the diagnosis could severely change my life. I know I'm sick--that my body is unable to do what it used to do--what it's supposed to do. I know surgery is imminent. But I also know grace and I know love. I know that amidst our heartaches and heartbreaks--amidst our excruciating stomach pains and migraines--there is a hope that carries us forward, breathing wind beneath wings when didn't know we had.
I'm seconds away from crawling into bed, thinking about dying.
Every day we're dying. Every hour. Every minute. Every second.
What would we be honest about if we knew it were our last day on earth?
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