It’s a question I’m asking myself since my friend and fellow blogger Faye sent me a link to this blog. I didn’t read too much but I gather a beautiful young woman who is also a mother has terminal cancer. This may not appear to be the best Happy New Year! link but I think it just could be.
She made me think about whether I am really, really living while I am alive. As I drove home tonight, was I thankful for the fact that I was able to drive? That I could listen to the news? That it wasn’t hard for me to drive, and that I got home safely? Simple questions, raised by her blog:
And now, now I’m learning what it is to die by degrees. Parts of my body failing, parts of my abilities vanishing, and what then? Yesterday, I kept thinking- I drove for the last time and didn’t realize it was the last time. I don’t remember the last time in the drivers seat or the music we played. I just realized I will likely never again drive. It’s this weird event that marks the fading of a life, and I have no feeling other than wonder over the fact that it’s over. That chapter. All the driving my body can no longer do will now be captured by my community, my loves, my people. And there will be other strengths that will languish, and my people will press into love and provide us the needed strength and support to manage that new edge.
Read to the end. It’s sad but not depressing. She puts her faith in Jesus. You might not do so, but there is something in her blog posts even for non-Christians. The question is how to press into living, how to make the most of each moment. It is hard to write about these things without sounding trite. But the questions are worth asking.
I am pro-life. So am I really living?
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