One Lifetime

“In one lifetime we lead a lot of different lives.” So says the character Angela in the TNT original series “Rizzoli & Isles.” How true this is!

I began my life 38 years ago as a daughter. The first daughter and the first child. I played, learned, and lived as happily as any child does. When my mother died and my father remarried, I became a step-daughter and a younger sister, as I now had two older brothers. Life changed drastically and my years of play were pretty well over, but I made it through my teen years well enough.

As years passed I also became an aunt. Never a mother, but always an aunt. I don’t have a lot of money to spend on my nephews and niece, but we’ve established some traditions. Sometime close to Thanksgiving, my middle age nephews do an art project together. It’s a wide age range, so it’s difficult. Last year we tossed the art and made trail mix; food is always a good bet with boys! My sister’s son and I had a tradition when he was younger, which I never quite understood: we’d go to IHOP, and he’d order pancakes, which he wouldn’t eat. And when I would tell my sister, she would be unconcerned: “He doesn’t like pancakes.” Then why, oh why, do we go to IHOP? He shrugged, perhaps seven at the time, and said, “Because that’s what we do.”

I became a teacher of small children, first as a volunteer at church, and then as a day care teacher. I worked with two-year-olds mostly, and I had the great privilege of watching them learn. That age group is amazing, in that you can almost literally see their little brains working. Most two-year-olds have trouble saying “Miss Melissa.” M’s are not difficult, but l’s and s’s can be! I was Miss Ma-issa and Miss Ma-sissa and Miss Issa and Miss Lissa. I had one little boy who would call me “She-sha,” and for the life of me, I had no idea where that came from! It sounds nothing like Melissa! It was actually my co-teacher who deciphered his lisp; he was calling me Teacher.

After seven years working at that day care center, I decided to get my teaching degree, so I again became a student. And after four and a half years of study, I became a teacher.

I taught middle school in a small classical Christian school. I loved it! I wanted to teach for the rest of my life. But that was not to be.

I was a teacher for only a few years, and then I became a patient. For a few years I was both, but the severity of my disease, psoriatic arthritis, makes teaching difficult. Now my days and weeks and months are filled with doctor appointments instead of lesson plans. I have a part-time job, but it does not define me; it is not who I am. From what my many specialists have said, I gather I am not a typical patient. Not only is my disease worse than any case they’ve seen before, I am also an e-patient: an empowered patient. I take time to understand my disease, the treatment options, and the procedures that my doctors perform to manage my disease. I am also a-typical because I have a good attitude, overall, and just as my teachers used to praise me for being “a pleasure to have in class,” I know I bring a bit of sunshine to offices that may not otherwise see it.

That brings me to my last point. Daughter, sister, aunt, teacher, patient: overall and through all, first and foremost, I am a Christian. A Christ-follower. A Believer. I am in no way perfect, but the percentage is, year by year, skewing toward the full, as I seek to follow what God desires of my life. By God’s grace, I am forgiven. By His grace, I can forgive the people who have hurt me. By the power of His Spirit day by day, I can live a full life even with this disease and the constant pain that goes with it. And with His joy in me, I can be a light in the darkness.

You have one lifetime. Which lives will you live?