The title for this week’s muttering in my draft ended with a question mark. I erased it afterward as I am hopeful that some of you already know the answer, and will be kind enough to share. I do know that, however, life is worth living. I enjoy it every day. I just haven’t found out if there is an endgame to it.
A wise woman with the name of Christy Beam and her family seem to have the answer. She told us all about it, in riveting details, in her book titled Miracles from Heaven: A Little Girl, Her Journey to Heaven, and Her Amazing Story of Healing.
The book is a memoir of how her daughter Annabel, then 10 years of age, recovered from a rare intestinal disease called pseudo-obstruction motility disorder. For a layman like me, it means the disability to digest food. After many months of medical treatment, and continual pain and suffering on that little body, she was basically sent home to die. While playing in her backyard with her older sister, they climbed up a huge but dead cottonwood tree that measured almost 3 stories high. She fell head-down into the hollow of the trunk. It took rescuers 3 hours before they could hoist her out of that narrow pit and flew her to a nearby hospital. She woke up shortly with no serious injuries: no broken bones, no neurological damage, none whatsoever.
After she was discharged from the hospital for the fall, her perpetually bloated stomach began to shrink to normal in a few days, and she was in no pain of any kind either. She could eat food; her intestines could digest it. The doctors could not explain how or what happened. They called it a “spontaneous remission.” Annabel’s parents would call it a complete cure and a miracle from Heavens.
Annabel and her family deserved that miracle; they were kind people and devout Christians. Some people would doubt it and say it is another inexplicable coincidence.
I don’t know where I am on this issue. I had a few wonderful things or miracles happen to me in my life. One when I was a baby, I got really sick and was unconscious for many weeks, only to wake up to relearn basic skills like walking and talking. The second time was quite recent. I also lost conscious for a few weeks. But this time I woke up goofier and happier – because I know I should have been gone for good. In between these near-deaths, my old friend for decades hepatitis (type B or C, or both, I can’t remember exactly) disappeared. My doctors just couldn’t find the infection of hepatitis in my blood tests anymore. Neither could they find an explanation. Medically and metaphorically I am on “spontaneous remission” from all these things.
So, what is the meaning of life? Is it random, or pre-designed? To me, it is to carry on, not to take things too seriously, be nice to yourself, and other people. If something really meaningful and enjoyable comes along, I’ll volunteer for it. Until then, I’ll just live as if it is a vacation with an open-dated return ticket. I hope you do too, happily.
*** The End ***
(The dissemination of this writing is for non-commercial enjoyment only. The author reserves the copyright for himself)