The Hope Factor

I can recall countless mornings and nights of lying in bed as hot tears escaped my swollen and red eyes. Pain. That's all I felt. It had become the norm. I had convinced myself that my health would never improve. The pain would never end, and my weak body would never regain its strength.  "This won't last forever, Grace," my mom whispered as she fought back her own tears in the early months of this journey. I leaned against the wall, tears streaming down my face as I tried to believe her. But I couldn't. I angrily wiped away my tears as another day of no diagnosis, increasing pain, and my fatigue overwhelmed me. I was filled with dread and frustration as each day came to an end because I knew that the next day would be a repeat but only worse. "I can't take this anymore, God," I'd whisper in between my sobs.  I wrestled with so many different emotions—so much confusion, anger, loneliness, and despair. I struggled with so many questions and doubts...

Have you ever had one of those days where everything seems to be going wrong, and all you feel like doing is grumbling about it? If your answer is no, I think you’re probably kidding yourself. Complaining is human nature. The thing is, I’ve come to realise how bad an attitude of complaining is for my own mental health. Let me back up a little. When I was almost fourteen, I lost my grandpa to a disease that took him when he was only in his late 60s. There’s no doubt about it—that was the most difficult period of my life. I’d lost family before, but losing him hit me harder than any other experience. The world lost an incredible man, but I lost a friend. For about a year, I dealt with depression, although not many people know this about me. I drew into my shell like a frightened snail, and I let myself be miserable. I felt so alone. I found myself constantly asking God, “Why me?” Why was I having to struggle while other people were still going along like before, being happy?  I kne...