I have perhaps hinted cryptically that I got sick when I was younger. And perhaps done so of recent health problems as well. But I have kept from writing them in detail for a reason. It isn’t privacy that keeps me mute on the subject.
As soon as people know you have been sick, are sick, it becomes an excuse for everything in your life. And people will help you use that excuse. I suppose I could justify not writing as often as my blog. And someone will echo that sentiment because we think it is the loving thing to do. There is of course a time when that may be accurate, but often if given a chance to make an excuse, valid though it may be, we are quick to use it.
That is not my only reason though. There are, as I mentioned with my disdain for making public my birthday, people who will suddenly become interested in your life again. If I was dying (I’m not [not that I know of anyway]), I don’t want to be treated differently. Frankly, we are all dying each day. And we don’t know how many days we have. Heck, we don’t even know if we only have hours, minutes, seconds.
I don’t want to suddenly be more important because people have been reminded of my mortality. I want to be important because I am loved. And morbid though it may be, we must be everware of the mortality of those we love. It is amazing how much more closely we cling to those we love when we realize we only have this moment, perhaps a last moment.
Pity is not something I desire either. I don’t want to be known as “the sick guy”. I don’t want given any facility, whether in school work or my job. If my health becomes so serious that they suffer, I need to, and will, take leave. Until then, I am wholly consecrated to the tasks before me.
Forgive me if anyone should offer pity and encouragement, but I don’t need it. It is appreciated for the kind motive behind it. But it is unnecessary. Really, God is all I need, and in my adumbral hours, it has always been Him and me. I have become reliant on His strength, love, and grace. I should not scorn the love and support of people, and I don’t. But only if they are part of my life beforehand, only if they care for me beforehand.