If there is one thing that enduring a serious illness has taught me it is this: to live in the moment is Divine!
The moment is all we really have anyways right? I mean can you re-live the fabulous breakfast you had 6 hours ago or borrow the great night of sleep you might have in 4 more hours right now? Nope. While I do value reflecting on the past and hoping for events in the future, I try to LIVE in the moment. This translates into a lovely collection of coping and being behaviors that keep me sane these days. Let’s take 10:51 p.m. EST on Sunday, for example.
Steve and I had a really nice time visiting with his son, Daniel, and his girlfriend Elizabeth. We enjoyed their happiness, love for each other, and sharing of their plans for the future. Our time together went quickly and I thought little of my discomforts. Looking ahead, I foresee many good things for them with the blessing of the Lord on their lives together. Living in the moment, I refused to consider what it would be like, should they get married, trying to navigate various family activities whilst sick on my unpredictable schedule. Living in the moment whilst lying in bed with seizures right before they arrived, I refused to spend energy trying to figure out what I would say should I not make it to the living room to see them. The attacks stopped just after they walked in the door. The worry would have been wasted if I had spent any energy there. I praise the Lord for helping me in those tenuous moments. I praise the Lord for our moments of happiness this evening.
Steve and I are looking forward to several family Christmas activities in the next few days, including a church service in the water-damaged building that is our church home. This will require me to wear a carbon filter mask as soon as I walk in the door and wait to remove it until I enter the shower at home. This will require both Steve and I to remove our outer clothing and coats when we get home and toss it all in the dryer as soon as we walk in the door. This will require an awkward conversation with Daniel and Elizabeth about our mold decontamination procedures should they come back to our house later that evening. So right now, instead of ruminating about all of this, I am choosing to spend my energy looking forward to worshipping in our church home for the Christmas Eve candlelight service. It will be my first time with Steve there in over 6 months . . .
Moments of true happiness come easily sometimes and other times they require arduous, copious amounts of work. All I can say is that in this one moment in time, now 11:04 p.m., I am grateful for a few happy moments today. This is new for me. Perhaps I am starting to live again? Yes. That makes me happy, happy, happy.