Phoenix rising

I’m sure many of you are familiar with the mythological Phoenix. The story of a mythical bird that literally rises from the ashes of it’s predecessor. I really fancied myself an Athena.  She is goddess of wisdom, courage, inspiration, civilization, law and justice, strategic warfare, mathematics, strength, strategy, the arts and crafts. That sounds nice. Or maybe a Venus (Aphrodite). Goddess of love, passion, beauty, pleasure and fertility. What about a Pandora? I can see some similarity. Letting grief, misery, desolation into my life, but hope also lays at the bottom. But more closely I resemble, a Phoenix. That’s what I most identify with. HLH burned me to the ground, and slowly I am rebuilding a life from the old one I was living. I never thought I wouldn’t be the person that I wanted to be. Isn’t that what society tells you is possible? All you have to do is have a positive attitude, a little faith, a lot of willpower and “poof” perfection. You are in control of this. Health body, happy family, longevity and success. It’s all up to you. You have control if you only master your fate, and you master your fate by having control. Well, hardy, hardy, ha, ha, ha. I’m afraid there is more to it than that.

The rebuilding of this life is not entirely mine.

I am purely a miracle. A vessel of hope. An inspiration, mind you. And it really sucks. Yet, I am instructed and obligated to feel thankful. And I AM. But some days this is so damn hard. To face yet another surgery. To spend yet another summer away. To face pain, sleepless nights and uncertainty and the only control that you have is to find an ounce of gratefulness in it. Thank goodness others don’t say what they really mean, “I’m glad it’s not me.” I would be glad if it wasn’t me too. But that is not an option. What kind of attitude is that? I would say a purely human one. So I look to mythology in the Phoenix and to my Lord Jesus Christ in his resurrection and ascension to find gratitude in the bigger picture. In the trust of God, that my glory is in a story I do not fully know. I do not know how I would cope otherwise.

The repatching continues. In just a few more days, I will get the log awaited hip! I have been waiting 18 months and truthfully, when I heard it was going to be that long, oooooh it was depressing. But now the wait is almost over! Things have been going very well thus far. My check up was great. I am off the majority of my transplant medications. I have been conditioning my mind, body and spirit for a somewhat extensive surgery, but one that I have been looking forward to (as much as one can look forward to major surgery). I feel so fortunate to get this opportunity, but you have to admit, it still sucks. That is what is so ironic about my life right now. My blessings come in the ability to face another surgery, to be a miracle and an inspiration. That I am in the 50% of those that undergo BMT and are a success. I want to look at life as a blessing, but my blessing is another’s crappiest day ever. Will this stop? My gratitude is sincere, but my heart and my head is a bit baffled. Does Jesus look down at us and all our faults and say, “whew, I’m glad I went through that tortuous death? This really is working out well.” And when did that viewpoint start for him?

So I take the pieces and continue to patch. I treasure the hope in the bottom of the box. I AM grateful for the next sunrise and the challenges that it may bring. I am SO thankful for the sunrise and the love that is shared with me. I am SO thankful for the hope that is shared with me. I am SO thankful for the faith that is shared with me. I will take the crappiest day ever to have yet another day. To have opportunity. Survivors are the hope for us all. That the story has a happy ending. That the sun will come up again. And that’s what I am.






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