Wednesday, August 31, 2016
Five years ago a friend invited me to be part of an exercise group she was starting at her church. It was simple exercises provided by a stroke program at the hospital and some kindergarten dancing to raise heart rate. About ten women came for an hour each Thursday and then retired to the Common Room to have tea. A strong support group was the result where women cried, laughed, cussed and discussed, and bonded together. We have been and are THERE for each other. This is what we humans were meant to do.
When this group heard my diagnosis on Memorial Day weekend last May, they met at their church and prayed for me. They prayed hard and never stopped. They, along with others, brought food, sent cards, wrote notes, called my husband. A fire brigade of news went from one to another every time there was a development, which for a long time was a dark and depressing development usually.
Four months later they are still with me. A note today one wrote from her morning meditation time says today, "For your friends who love you, you have become our poster child for HOPE! We know that God loves you and is in control. Watching you suffer we know there is a larger meaning to life. Thank you for carrying this burden for us...please don't give up. Lean on God, lean on us as you become this new person..."
In the face of such support, of such confirmation, how I can I do anything less than go forth, accept, and meet head on whatever I have to face each day?