This is going to a post which departs from the ordinary, for I am going to speak about something I usually leave unsaid. But it's important, and a big piece of how I view my life and handle my suffering.
Those who have read my book already know that I am a strong proponent of the Mind/Body/Spirit philosophy. You know that I try to incorporate a sense of gratitude, hopefulness, connection with nature, meditation and prayer into my daily life. You also know that I am a pseudo-new-age-Buddist-wannabe - using many forms of complementary eastern approaches to help with my disease.
The one thing which I have never dwelt on is my Catholic faith.
You may know that before these diseases hit me, I was an administrator for a large Catholic parish; the very parish in which I was baptized,married, and raised my own children. But what you do not know is that after I was no longer able to work, that church still called me. From the inside this time, not the fringes. When I worked, one of my responsibilities was to prepare the church for the daily Mass at noontime. I often thought about the people who attended church services every day (including
those who came to recite the rosary in advance) and always kind of wished I
could be one, for I was someone who - it seems - went through the motions
without experience any real close connection.
But illness does strange things for you. It slows you down and makes you
think. It allows you to become more compassionate and makes you aware of the
important things in life. Suffering opens up a whole new world that those
untouched by illness, sorrow, or pain have never experienced. It's a club you
never wanted to join but somehow feel a better person just for belonging to it.
The Christian view on suffering is that it is inescapable on this
earth. Inescapable, but redemptive. I can, and should, transform my
suffering into something beneficial for others or for me.
Faith. I'll take it!
