I thought it was a cruel joke when I was finally diagnosed with a life-threatening disease.
For years I had known something was wrong. By mid-morning every day, sucking fatigue reduced me to a puddle of tears. I had aches and pains that seemed to have no cause. No doctor would take me seriously until one day I was told I had late stage kidney disease, which meant either a life-time of dialysis, hooked up to a machine, or a kidney transplant.
I wish I could say I showed grace and maturity through the long and painful treatment process, but the truth is a bit messier.
How did I pull it together as a young wife and mother, knowing my life could be tragically short? How does a marriage and family endure one nail-biting crisis after another? How is it possible for faith to not only survive but grow in a climate of lost youth, bitterness and fear?