Peace

There are different times for everything.

There is a time to be joyful, and a time to be sad.
There is a time to laugh, and a time to cry.

This should be a time of darkness,
and similar situations have previously tormented my soul.
This time however, it's all different.

I feel neither fear nor despair, for there is light in the darkness.
There is peace and there is joy.
There is fulfillment in my heart,
and every time I get back from my mother's hospital room,
I feel overwhelmed with gratitude and hope.

I cannot really describe it -
it is not something I have done through my own power.
It is a gift, and I am so immensely grateful for it.

I know that there are many people out there
who look at my mother's situation and feel despair.
Many who think that we should be angry,
resentful and bitter towards God.
I do not feel any of those things.
My mother is at peace, she is full of hope,
and eagerly awaiting her promised gift.
Although we do not always get the promises that we want,
He always keeps the one he gives.

But no matter what happens in the future,
I do not believe that life can get any better than this.
I never expected my soul to feel such peace in such a dark hour,
but it does.

There is joy and there is happiness.
There is gratitude and there is love.
There is hope.

And all that in abundance.

We have all reason to grieve,
but there is no room left for that in our hearts.
How could my soul do anything but rejoice??

Ishtar

Back to square one

I never thought that baring one's soul and facing one's worst fears could be so exhaustive, but it certainly is. Last time things got bad - when this whole journey started in January 2005 and my mom was evacuated from Niger - I reacted by going into shock when the whole thing was over and she had been flown home.

It wasn't something I chose to do: I just didn't dare to reach out and take hold of God's outreached hand, because I was so afraid of getting disappointed if he did not answer our prayers. But he did, many times over. When your loved one is hospitalized in the world's least developed country where they have so few resources you wonder if they can actually save any lives at all - you get to see every miracle for what it really is. I've always said that life in Niger is much more black & white than in Europe, and that's one of the reasons why I love it so.

Now we're back to square one however. Only difference now is that there is even less to hope for than last winter, as the cancer seen with human eyes is irretrievable.

And yet, I am full of hope. I know that it is not from my own strength, but a gift from above. I choose to put my trust in someone so much greater than us all, and he has responded. I know that the little girl inside of me cannot in any way rejoice over the fact that my mother is facing such a long and painful process with no human of hope of surviving, but I know that my God is a God of miracles, and I know that he will be with us all the way. Whatever the outcome, whether good or bad, I know that the day will come when it will all make sense and I will be able to see why it was for the best, even though I couldn't at the time.

My life is full of meaning and I do not regret it one minute, despite the costs. There is good and evil in my life. There is black and white. There is anguish and hope, faith and despair, but above all, there is love in abundance.

My mother and I (1981)

Love comes at a price, but that price is worth it. I love my mother to bits. I cannot fathom life without her and I don't think that I will ever experience the innocence of youth again. However, I am so blessed through all of this and my heart is singing a song of joy. Funny how it is always so much easier to take that leap of faith when you have nothing to lose and everything to win.

Ishtar