Today marks six months since I was diagnosed with lupus. Over the last six months, I have experienced a season full of good days and hard days, times of intense emotion, moments of humor, heartaches, challenges, and victories. Most of all, this has been a season of learning:
Learning new routines and discovering the consequences for when I don't stick to those routines (like how if I miss taking my meds, I'll throw up uncontrollably the next day).
Learning to show grace when people try to diagnose me or fix me. (Oh, how creative people can be!)
Learning to function at a different pace, to slow down, to take breaks, to do less (without accomplishing less).
Learning that I must consciously choose between two extremes: I can either get depressed or be positive in everything. I can either allow my situation to paralyze me or fuel me. I can either doubt God or trust Him. I don't have the option of choosing a middle ground. And each morning, I have have to make the decision once again. (I don't think very profoundly in the morning. The way these issues manifest themselves in the morning sounds more like, "Should I get out of bed today?")
When I was diagnosed, I decided early on to believe that just because something is hard doesn't mean that it's bad. Just because life is hard doesn't mean life is bad. Six months down the road, my belief has not changed.
My life is hard, but my life is not bad.
My life is good.
And tomorrow morning, I think I'll choose to get out of bed.
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