It is a statement of hope that describes the unlimited purpose in the gift of another day of life. Yet, in some seasons of life, pain can flood from one day to the next, making a new day feel devoid of the hope of transformative purpose. Darkest of all, there are painfully defining moments that can shape your life, after which you will never wake up another day in life without some level of pain.
If you are waking up today in pain, physically or emotionally, you may feel helpless, hopeless, or simply overwhelmed with where life has taken you. This is a safe place. My hope is not to try to trivialize anything you are feeling or make you feel like you should feel differently. I am deeply sensitive to making people feel validated right where they are, even if it is a dark place right now. I’m asking you to let me meet you there.
Before we begin, I want you to know me. I can say that I am a safe place, but you will only know that if you know some of my story. I understand firsthand that hurting people are vulnerable. You don’t need anyone trying to direct your feelings. In this season of pain, you don’t need any voices that hurt you deeper than you are already hurting. If I share some of my story, you might see that I, too, understand pain, even if my pain looks different than yours.
At least for me, misery doesn’t love company. It breaks my heart to hear of the ways that people are facing pain. I only share my story with you to help you understand that I, too, have had very deep valleys. You may have a painful season that may look very different from my painful season. Your pain is real and there is no competition. I’m so sorry you are in pain. Throughout the years, and through many trials other than cancer, I have found that few people have had the words that could meet me in my pain.
The only words that met me in my pain came from my mom, nine years ago in the hospital. There was no medicine that could take away the physical pain of having my tongue cut out and my neck cut from ear to ear. There was also the emotional pain of what my life would look like outside of a hospital. In the middle of the night, when the pain was more than I could bear, my mom would take my hand and whisper, “Just get through today.”
will use this season of my pain to speak into yours. Just as my mom said to me, my only hope is to help you just get through today, If you can, no matter how dark the road is in front of you, I’m going to challenge you to only look at today. Today is enough.
