… Out of every season of grief, or suffering, when the hand of God seemed heavy or unjust, new resources for living were learned, new resources of courage were uncovered, and that finally, inescapably, the conviction came that God does "move in mysterious ways His wonders to perform."
By now, you may be aware that I have a terminal illness. I am not unique. People all over this Earth are getting handed big, bad, scary diagnoses that are sure to end in death everyday. Mine happens to be Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis, (a.k.a ALS, a.k.a. "Lou Gehrig's" disease, a.k.a. Motor Neuron Disease, a.k.a. MND). Lots of aliases for a big, bad, scary disease that affects approximately 30,000 souls per year. This particular disease, voraciously and insidiously attacks the upper and lower motor neurons robbing voluntary muscles of their function, leaving the afflicted paralyzed and helpless. It steals the ability to walk, wave, grasp, hug, kiss, talk, eat, and swallow. Eventually, this disease robs you of your ability to even breathe. There is NO cure.
My first disease, however, is Alcoholism, another potentially fatal disease. Again, I am not unique. Millions are afflicted, and if left untreated, is progressive and fatal. By virtue of my connection to a network of "recovering" alcoholics, I have witnessed the insidious and fatal nature of this disease first hand. I have attended many heart-wrenching funerals of people who scoffed at the hopelessness of the disease. I have felt blessed for many years as I was able to reach beyond mainstream medicine and wisdom to participate in a method to arrest the progression, note that I did not say "cure". Once again, a disease without a cure and yet, I have managed to live a healthy, happy, and fruitful life.
Why do I bring up these two diseases in conjunction with the leading quote? It was because of my first disease that I was exposed to concepts that were foreign to me at the time: the admission of my powerlessness over the disease process and the unmanageability of my life; reliance on a Higher Power (whom I call God) and the unshakeable belief that He holds me in the palm of His hand. Or, if you will: I can't; He can: so I'll let Him. For me, this is among my new resources for living as well as my resource for courage.
Upon discovering that I was alcoholic, I was devastated. How will I ever have fun again? How can I live with this or even live with myself? Is this the end? Happily, it was not "the end" to life nor my enjoyment of it. Rather it was a new beginning to a life that I never dreamed possible. Fast forward eighteen years later, the doctor says, "You have ALS." Devastation doesn't seem like a strong enough word when you learn that you contracted an incurable and aggressive disease like ALS, a disease professed to kill it's victims in a startling 2-5 years AFTER crippling and leaving you gasping like a fish out of water. Helpless and vulnerable. How can I live with this, with myself? Why me?
I learned a long time ago...why not me? With alcoholism, I became uniquely qualified to carry a message of hope to other suffering alcoholics. With ALS, I became uniquely-qualified to carry a message of hope. With ALS, the shackles of earning a living fell away. The burden of living for others fell away. It became clear to me that I could not live surrounded by negative people and bear their burdens. I learned to live in the NOW because it is all that I truly have. I'm learning to truly nurture myself and ask for what I need. (Sometimes that is as simple as a drink of water or a trip to the toilet.) Do I have hope? Hell yes!
I hope to live another day, another week, another month, another year. I hope to be around long enough to see my daughter get married and have a grandchild or two. I hope my husband learns to make peace with my condition and doesn't leave, or God forbid, just stay out of a sense of duty. I hope to keep my voice as I've got a lot to say. I hope to stay positive. I hope to keep making friends. I hope my family and friends rally around and allow me to enjoy them to the bittersweet end. I hope to cast my vote in the next election. I hope to meet Stephen Hawking and learn his secret to longevity with this disease. I hope for peace in the middle east. I hope...the point is that I hope.
New resources for living and courage...keep learning, stay positive, hang on to hope and love, my friends.
Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions, p. 105
By now, you may be aware that I have a terminal illness. I am not unique. People all over this Earth are getting handed big, bad, scary diagnoses that are sure to end in death everyday. Mine happens to be Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis, (a.k.a ALS, a.k.a. "Lou Gehrig's" disease, a.k.a. Motor Neuron Disease, a.k.a. MND). Lots of aliases for a big, bad, scary disease that affects approximately 30,000 souls per year. This particular disease, voraciously and insidiously attacks the upper and lower motor neurons robbing voluntary muscles of their function, leaving the afflicted paralyzed and helpless. It steals the ability to walk, wave, grasp, hug, kiss, talk, eat, and swallow. Eventually, this disease robs you of your ability to even breathe. There is NO cure.
My first disease, however, is Alcoholism, another potentially fatal disease. Again, I am not unique. Millions are afflicted, and if left untreated, is progressive and fatal. By virtue of my connection to a network of "recovering" alcoholics, I have witnessed the insidious and fatal nature of this disease first hand. I have attended many heart-wrenching funerals of people who scoffed at the hopelessness of the disease. I have felt blessed for many years as I was able to reach beyond mainstream medicine and wisdom to participate in a method to arrest the progression, note that I did not say "cure". Once again, a disease without a cure and yet, I have managed to live a healthy, happy, and fruitful life.
Why do I bring up these two diseases in conjunction with the leading quote? It was because of my first disease that I was exposed to concepts that were foreign to me at the time: the admission of my powerlessness over the disease process and the unmanageability of my life; reliance on a Higher Power (whom I call God) and the unshakeable belief that He holds me in the palm of His hand. Or, if you will: I can't; He can: so I'll let Him. For me, this is among my new resources for living as well as my resource for courage.
Upon discovering that I was alcoholic, I was devastated. How will I ever have fun again? How can I live with this or even live with myself? Is this the end? Happily, it was not "the end" to life nor my enjoyment of it. Rather it was a new beginning to a life that I never dreamed possible. Fast forward eighteen years later, the doctor says, "You have ALS." Devastation doesn't seem like a strong enough word when you learn that you contracted an incurable and aggressive disease like ALS, a disease professed to kill it's victims in a startling 2-5 years AFTER crippling and leaving you gasping like a fish out of water. Helpless and vulnerable. How can I live with this, with myself? Why me?
I learned a long time ago...why not me? With alcoholism, I became uniquely qualified to carry a message of hope to other suffering alcoholics. With ALS, I became uniquely-qualified to carry a message of hope. With ALS, the shackles of earning a living fell away. The burden of living for others fell away. It became clear to me that I could not live surrounded by negative people and bear their burdens. I learned to live in the NOW because it is all that I truly have. I'm learning to truly nurture myself and ask for what I need. (Sometimes that is as simple as a drink of water or a trip to the toilet.) Do I have hope? Hell yes!
I hope to live another day, another week, another month, another year. I hope to be around long enough to see my daughter get married and have a grandchild or two. I hope my husband learns to make peace with my condition and doesn't leave, or God forbid, just stay out of a sense of duty. I hope to keep my voice as I've got a lot to say. I hope to stay positive. I hope to keep making friends. I hope my family and friends rally around and allow me to enjoy them to the bittersweet end. I hope to cast my vote in the next election. I hope to meet Stephen Hawking and learn his secret to longevity with this disease. I hope for peace in the middle east. I hope...the point is that I hope.
New resources for living and courage...keep learning, stay positive, hang on to hope and love, my friends.
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