In Between

Such an interesting thing it is to be caught between -- between faith and appearance, between life and death. I find that I am often walking that precipice, as our family is one of many extremes. There are a whole lot of us, five children between five parents all mixed in a wild bundle. Three different faiths and a strong strand of no-faith-at-all mixed in. As many different ideas and political persuasions as you can imagine. And running through it all is the very real experience of a very, very sick child doing her best to cope and live and thrive.

I say child, which isn't exactly true. She's a very strong, independent young woman -- but I can't help but also think of her as a child, our child, as she struggles and triumphs and struggles again. In the in-between, she's brilliant and vibrant and lovely. She's motivated and fierce and hilarious. At times, she's angry. At times, I'm angry, too. She deserves a future that is endless and shining, and she's forced to continually wonder if that future is to be all she has dreamed of. If that future is to be at all.

As a Religious Scientist, I am called to see the spiritual truth of her beyond all appearance, and I do. It would be impossible not to! She shines so brightly. And yet, I am learning that sometimes looking pointedly for miracles and refusing the truth of the seeming reality feels dismissive and even unkind. I'm tired of answering the question, "Is she better yet?" I'm tired of the scolding comments, the "be careful what you're affirming," the "miracles are always happening," the "if you pray hard enough, if you just KNOW..." Yes, I know. I do. I know, and I believe. AND sometimes the kindest thing we can do is acknowledge the pain and challenge that is happening right now. I'm learning that people need to have their difficulties seen. Without that, our victories don't mean as much. Ernest Holmes didn't tell us to pretend things aren't so. He told us to look right at them, and then to see through them to the greater truth. Our girl is sick with an illness that has no cure right now. Our girl suffers every day and fights every day right now. I believe in an infinite God, and in that infinity is a cure. I hope it is found while she is with us. She deserves that vibrant future. And that, my friends, is the truth.