I am very good at feeling sorry for myself. In fact I think I could consider myself an expert. I can work myself up into a tizzy of self pity with very little effort. In a matter of minutes, I can pull a dark shade down over my heart that blocks out the light of rational thoughts. But the divine light of reality somehow pierces through that shade and illuminates my heart.
This month marks the 20th anniversary of my mother’s death. (October 30th to be precise.) For some crazy reason the 20 year milestone has been a difficult one. Perhaps it is because my children are all reaching important milestones in their lives. I have one that will graduate from college in December! My mother would have been extremely proud of him. He was the only child of mine she ever knew. I was pressing on with the normal responsibilities of life on the inner side of that dark shade until an important event took place this week.
One of my good friends, who reside in Mexico, shared with me her concerns about a family friend who is dealing with colon cancer. This is a gentleman that has been very loyal to her family over the years. She went on to tell me that the man is unable to purchase some medical supplies he needs. (Colostomy bags to be specific.) In this country, that is a common item that insurance or Medicare covers. The man is extremely poor. In a millisecond, the dark shade that had been covering my heart was yanked away.
I got busy and started figuring out ways to provide some short term financial assistance for this man; so that he could purchase needed medical supplies. Getting funds into Mexico securely takes a little effort, so I solicited the assistance of capable people that know how to do all of that. The initial part of the mission has already been accomplished. The dark shade has been cast aside. I don’t have time for self-pity.
My mother was diagnosed with colon cancer in August of 1991. It was in a well advanced stage by the time physicians determined what was going on. She was a very dignified lady, but she had to live with the reality of dealing with a colostomy bag during the final months of her life. Insurance of course covered the cost of those supplies. When I heard the story of the man in Mexico suffering from the same disease, I felt compelled to do something. My mother would have been ashamed of me if I let such an opportunity to assist go by. In an odd sort of way, I feel that I have honored her memory this week. I think it would be wise not to attempt to pull a dark shade of self pity over my heart again. There is no telling what kind of events may develop to forcefully pull it right off the window of my heart.
The dark shade of self-pity…Is it covering your heart today?