I love getting inspired by quotes and pictures and music and phrases and snippets and even just words strung perfectly together.
So, here’s a quote, part of a Psalm, actually, that I’ve found really uplifting and helpful to reflect upon in really dark moments:
Though the sorrow may last through the night, His joy comes in the morning. — Psalm 30:5
For me, often night is the worst time. Lying awake, usually in pain, usually despite the muscle relaxants meant to make me sleep, I’m free to think the worst. But that Psalm helps me remember that things are usually better in the morning.
Hope is a powerful thing; just as Barack Obama, who staked his whole campaign on it — and won — found out. Sometimes, in the middle of the night, things look so bleak that it’s hard to hope, but holding onto whatever fragments of it that I can is just so crucial to remaining as close to the healthy, care-free me as I can. Yes, I know I can never truly go back to being that girl. Even if they find a cure for PSA, I’ll still have the knowledge of what it’s like to live every day in pain, every day in fear of another flare or insurance cuts or losing my job and my insurance.
But hope is my tenuous connection to that girl, and I’m just not willing to let that slip away. Not yet, and maybe not ever. PSA has changed a lot of things, including me, but I won’t let it change everything.