Many people think that when life does not go their way that this is a sign that God is not pleased with them. That He is punishing them or that the Universe is against them. I do not believe this. I know that life is meant to be tough and each obstacle we face is merely an opportunity for us to grow, to strengthen and to become refined if we choose to do so. Recently, I read a quote on Facebook that really struck me.
Physical illness is not a sign of spiritual weakness, but rather it is a sign of spiritual strength. It is the spirit saying I am ready for a challenge. I am ready to grow.
After spending a week at the IWK, the children's hospital for Atlantic Canada, and being surrounded by countless sick children, including my own, witnessing just how strong they can be in the face of adversity and marvelling at all of their smiles, I know this is true.
This is going to be hard a blog post for me to write. Not because I don't have anything to say (trust me, I always have lots to say), but because I have not allowed the walls to come down just yet. People always comment on how strong I am or marvel at how well I handle adversity, but the truth is I am just very good at putting up walls. When placed in situations where I am in danger of becoming overwhelmed by immense heartache, fear, or uncertainty, I instinctively place barriers around my heart and my mind. I seal them up good and tight, put my head down and charge at what lies before me head on. I disconnect myself from my emotions, push them deep down inside of me and go into auto-pilot.
That is how I deal with adversity, that is how I survived our eight days in the IWK with a heavy heart, full of worry for my precious Baby Girl, and that is how I have been operating all week. You see, the walls don't come down easily. It takes time, and I do not seem to have any control as to when or where they will spring their first leak. I often think my spirit is in control of these walls and will only allow them to crumble when she knows I am truly ready to handle the emotional onslaught that inevitably follows. It is never pretty, but it is always welcome because until these walls come down, I can not feel like myself. I feel somewhat distanced from those around me and slightly disconnected from what is going on. It's like I am not truly living: my senses are dulled and my mind is programmed to merely operate, not to think, to feel or to create.
I have tried to force these walls down all week, but with no luck. I have had countless hot baths by candlelight hoping that the hot water would melt away this crusty exterior, but it is persistent. I have curled up beside my hubby at night and tried to talk about all the thoughts and fears running through my head, but the words won't come to me. I have tried to look deeply and directly into my loved ones' eyes searching for a spirit-to-spirit connection that will jolt me awake , but I always turn away. I can't bring myself to tear these walls down just yet. Once they are removed, I am left alone, defenceless, and vulnerable. But they will come down, and once they do, I will finally cry. The past month's pain, fears and heartache will finally flow freely through my body, and I will emerge stronger, ready to feel life intensely once again and to face whatever may come our way with hope, faith and optimism. Until then, though, I will make the most of of every little moment I am blessed to be at home with this amazing, and very strong, family of mine.
Thank you everyone for all that you have done to help my family through this difficult time. We appreciate your acts of service, your prayers and your kind words of support. We love you!