We're all going to die someday, (unless Christ returns). But this week that reality is looking me in the face. Come Wednesday, I will hit the half century mark. I can't imagine that I'm old enough to qualify for AARP. What makes turning fifty even scary for me is the knowledge that the median age at which people with acromegaly (a disease I've had for 20 years) die at 62. Twelve years doesn't seem like much.
The good news is that for the last year I've been on a new medicine that has kept my disease in check. It's a miracle drug more me. Thank God for good health insurance. My prescriptions run in the neighborhood of $5,000 per month. It's well worth it for me. Because of this treatment, there's a very good chance that I'll live beyond the average acromegalic.
Most of the time, having this death sentence hanging over me doesn't have a great impact on me. But this week in different. I'm trying not to make a big deal out of my birthday, it's really just another day. However, I'm not having much luck. I'll be glad when the day has come and gone, so that I can forget about it and get back to living my life as fully as I can while I can.
Part of what makes this hard to deal with are the feelings of guilt that go with the other emotional pain. I'm a Christian. I have faith in Christ. I know my life is held in God's hands. Thus I shouldn't be feeling, let alone expressing my grief and fear. I should just trust. And because I'm having these negative feelings, I end up beating myself up over them. Why can't I just believe that I'm going to live a full & healthy life? Why can't I trust that God will provide for me? Why am I so negative? I'm not supposed to have these feelings, I'm a pastor. Yet, as I sit and write this, I find myself fighting back the tears. God help me!