Kathy Henderson - The Stages of Me: A Journey of Chronic Illness Turned Inside Out

THE STAGES OF ME

A Journey of Chronic Illness Turned Inside Out

Kathy Henderson

Copyright 2010 Kathy Henderson

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ISBN: 978-1-4497-0864-1 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4497-0865-8 (dj)

ISBN: 978-1-4497-0863-4 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2010941170

Printed in the United States of America

WestBow Press rev. date: 12/3/2010

To my loving husband and best friend Mark whose faith, compassion and encouragement are what keep me grounded. You are my one true Love.

To my beautiful Children Rebecca and Christopher who humble me in their ability to explore their growing faith in this all too confusing world regardless of adversity.

To my mom, siblings, extended family, and friends and in loving memory of my dad, you have all been a part of building The Stages OF ME. And most importantly to my Director Jesus Christ who has chosen my roles and produced my entire production of The Stages Of ME!

Contents

Prologue

Come with me on a journey that starts with an imaginary vision, a scene played out, one in which I am just a simple character guided and directed!

I slowly walk from the wings of a darkened theater much like a memory from my past. The scene is familiar, as I had auditioned on a similar stage many years before. This vision takes me back to a time of discovery and youth, a time when all things were possible, and, yes, I was invincible.

This stage is lit by a single light bulb stand placed directly in the center. The light is glowing and yet is foreboding at the same time. I am drawn to it; yet I want to run quickly from the grasp it has on me. I keep walking. Next to the light is an old, rusty folding chair. I hesitantly walk to it and take my seat. I look out to where the audience would be; but it is as black as the night, and I see only a glare of stage light that fades into nothingness.

I search the blackness, my eyes trying desperately to focus. The Director is there; I know it. I can feel His presence! I squint as the glow of the light bulb blocks my vision. My heart is beating fast and my breathing has nearly stopped. I hear him speak quietly. Have you reviewed the pages?

I respond, somewhat timidly, Well, um yes, but I am not really interested in this particular part if thats okay.

I hear Him say, in a strangely comforting way, Oh come on now, you have been specially chosen for this. I know you can do it! I believe you can draw inspiration from the past.

I sit cowering before Him. He goes on. Youre prepared. It may be a tough show, but with the right touch and a push or two it can be a great piece of work. Trust me.

I admit tears well up in my eyes. My throat is a little tight and I am searching for a rebuttal.

There is none!

Trust me. They seem like such small words, so why am I terrified?

These words have immense power.

There are times when not having all the information keeps us guarded and fearful, and it gets tough. We must learn to let go and truly trust a partner, hoping our vulnerability brings us closer. We must learn to trust children and teens without knowing if they will make the right choices to remain safe. When trusting our leaders, we hope they know what they are doing, even when they are lost themselves. Trusting our friends allows us our own imperfections while accepting theirs. Most important, perhaps, is the ability to trust that our inner strength and faith are enough in the face of adversity especially when adversity is in our faces!

To lose trust is to stand still in time, too frightened to move forward or go backward; stage fright, so to speak. This immobilizing fear can creep up inside of us and control our performance and actions

The stage is where it all plays out. We need to do our best, trusting the Director and waiting for the reviews.

At times my own life feels like a dream, one I want to wake from, but then I would never learn how it ends. Without our dreams we would be lost, and without our stages there is no show. Often on lifes stages we can feel much like a pawn on a chess board, awaiting the next move and wondering if it is correct or not. Not knowing the outcome can be uncomfortable, but with trust and faith it can be exhilarating and rewarding. I also believe with honesty it will be enlightening. I must allow myself my ignorance and always ask the tough questions of my Director. Most importantly, I must be open to His answers.

This vision is just one fateful day in my life. I imagine myself in this place, on a stage, standing before the Director, being given a role to play regardless of choice. How many times in life must we all face this awkward feeling and realize it is only with the balance of life and true acceptance of the assigned part that we can evolve into another role? How often must we look into the darkness and trust the guidance of our Director ?

Nonfiction roles, the ones we see play out in plays and films based on true stories, intrigue us. They originate in the day-to-day lives of real people just like you and me. Fictional roles come from someone deciphering his or her own understanding of this life stage. In the trueness of a real-life role, there is no special lighting to make it look better. There are no body-doubles, sadly enough, to step in for us when a stunt is too difficult or we do not want to perform a particular scene. It is generally not necessary to find a place deep within that will bring the required tears, for in our own realities, they are close at hand. The emotion is what gives us the challenge to seek the skills and temperance to take us to our next stage, our next role.

My stages are what have brought me thus far. My Director will decide what is best. I am His performer. He will cast me in His scenes, and He will nurture my talents to become a vessel for His production.

My life had come full circle. I was surprised how the paths I had taken and my vast experiences were creating an amazing story. I had been guided in this life by a power of direction through a designed plan. I was awakened by the strength of other peoples wisdom, tragedies, and triumphs. These became the tools I needed along the way. They came in the form of touchessome gentle, some firm, some loving, some scary, some angry, and some even distant. I may not have always used the tools to my advantage, but I had a desire to figure them out. We are often unaware of the touches of others. They can seem so insignificant at the time of their happening, yet if we look back at the sequence we can see how so many are symbolic. They are but pieces of a puzzle that allow us the ability to learn, understand, and grow.