If you’re reading this today, you’re alive.
Maybe you don’t feel that way. Instead, you’re barely holding on. You feel numb, unworthy, somehow less than fully human.
It’s especially easy to feel that way if you’re one of the thousands of people suffering from chronic disease or devastating injury. Perhaps you’re one of the millions of people who care for them. Either way, you’ve forgotten what it’s like to have what most would call a “normal” life.
Boy, have I been there.
Our son’s spinal cord injury in 1997 plunged him into the world of disability and dumped me unceremoniously into the world of caregiving. I quickly learned that the fight for life is as primal as it gets.
It’s a lonely trip. It’s an honor. It’s a tightrope walk between the two stretched over a chasm of uncertainty.
Today I’m nearing two decades as a caregiver. I can tell you that every step of the journey, God has held us, even when I didn’t know He was there. His comfort has been the golden oil sustaining me through every trial. He has patiently taught me to relish each day I can breathe and think and worship my Creator.
Rejoicing in the Lord always.
Trusting in a faithful Father for tomorrow.
Life is a gift, an invitation to a very special party. Let’s treasure what we have this moment and believe God will keep eternity safe for us, for the day when the lame walk and God dries our tear-stained faces.
That day’s coming. Until then, we will conquer whatever comes, together. No matter what you’re going through right now, you can be assured you are never, ever alone. You’re important to God, and you’re important to me.
You’re alive. You’re safe. You’re precious in His sight.
That’s worth singing about. Come on, join the celebration!