Paint on a Face

It's time to paint on my face.
It's time to walk outside into fresh air.
It's time to stop feeling sorry for myself, stop wasting time, stop the darkness from becoming so prevalent.
It's time for a ball cap and earrings.
It's time to stop by the church and say hello.
It's time to realize that whatever is going on with me, I still need to be a good steward, honor God, not spend time in needless, mindless sorrow.
It's time to live again.

I have spent the last month trying to second guess a hormone treatment that has caused me more pain, frustration, and doubt that anything we have tried over the last eight years. The real kicker here is that we don't know, won't know if it is working until I surrender to that ever-looming blood test and series of scans I believed the past month would offer relief, respite, recovery. Instead, I have suffered from aches, pains, chills, nausea and such terrible malaise that it is frightening. Middle-of-the night "episodes" that I cannot explain and make me yearn for a hospital. Daytime ickiness that keeps me on a sofa. The constant dizziness of lack of confidence and impending dread that this could be disease progression and not hormonal manipulation has been exhausting and defeating. Trying to stay the course through the roughest course yet.

But the funny thing about the trials of the last month is that life kept on going. Exciting times are still happening. God and my husband still love me through it all. My daughter graduated and found a full time job with a company she loves. Soon she will need my help moving into and decorating her new place to live. We are going to Florida next week. I just got back from the beach. Life goes on with or without me and it's time to jump back in the game.

Time to paint on my face...color in eyebrows, pretend I have lashes.
Time to put on dress pants instead of sweats.
Time to pray and ask forgiveness for my loss of faith.
Time to face the music and play along.
Time to walk in the sunlight of a beautiful day.