Today my autoimmune disease won: a repeat of the last 24 months. Today, like the last 24 months, I reached a point in which I could no longer fight the pain and fatigue. One would think that I would allow myself to settle for just a bit of hopelessness, but no. I’m still in shock every day when I lose because my belief is so true. Call it naïveté or a simple child-like belief in hope, but I got it. Every. Day. I believe I might win. Every. Day.
In his text Mercy Cardinal Walter Kasper writes that “we must be silent about God if we don’t know how to speak anew the message of God’s mercy to the people who are in so much physical and spiritual distress (5).”
And, for that reason alone, my dear friends, I will remain hopeful and merciful not just to my neighbors (a simpler task for me), but to myself.
I must meet myself daily with mercy. Not with a far away, all-powerful God, but a God right in the middle of my pain and unconquerable fatigue.
How are you granting yourself mercy?
I will pray for you; will you pray for me?
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