I found the following article at a great web site called Rest Ministries and it really touched my heart and explained a little how I feel. I want to post more, but I’m very tired right now. Hopefully I can give an update soon!
“Too Young” by Carolynn Cheatham
“You’re too young to have this.”
“OK, then fix it, please.”
“We don’t know how.”
The common and frequent questions:
How did you develop a nerve problem?
Were you in an accident?
The answers, always the same:
I don’t know.
The doctors can’t figure it out.
No accident, I just woke up with it.
There’s nothing they can do.
The usual response:
Oh honey, I am so sorry.
Bless your heart.
You’re too young for this.
Sympathy, not empathy.
Few can see the good that has come out of it.
That I have matured and am stronger.
Maybe I am too young for this
But I am not too young to die serving my country,
Or have a child, in or out of wedlock;
To get drunk and make the choice to drive a car and kill someone
in the accident I cause.
I can incur thousands of dollars in debt, buying worthless things I don’t need,
Or get caught up in the fashion trends of the more-skin-revealed-the-better or
I could die trying to make myself look like the “standard” –
I am not too young to have an eating disorder.
I am not too young to have lots of boyfriends and risk STDs.
Why then am I too young for health problems?
My body isn’t old enough?
Disease and distress are reserved for the aged?
What a great future I am looking at 30 years from now when the “typical” health issues kick in. I can’t wait!
They say growing old is not for the faint hearted – what about growing up?
Maybe that’s it. Maybe I’m not mature enough to handle all this. Maybe they don’t want me to experience what they do or what they fear.
But if they experience what I do – what’s the big deal?
My heart is whole and my soul rejoices.
I am stronger, healthier than I’ve ever been.
I know who I am – the disease does not define me
Neither do the clothes, or the car, or the job;
It’s my heart.
I gave it to God 13 years ago and I’m not about to ask for it back.
Yes, these momentary troubles are tough.
I shed tears – some of frustration. Some of anger, and some of desperation.
But I know who walks beside me, holds my hand, and offers comfort and peace
I hate this pain sometimes, but I don’t hate Him.