There were many doctors that gave me and my family grim expectations for the future.
What I would and wouldn’t be able to do.
What not to expect.
I wouldn’t dress myself this morning.
I wouldn’t help my kids get ready for a day of school.
I wouldn’t be making plans for the 10yo’s birthday sleepover.
I wouldn’t be planning an event for hundreds of people by phone and internet.
I wouldn’t be organizing a non-conference for the first time.
I wouldn’t be writing these words you’re reading right now.
I want to scream sometimes. My frustration. Irritation. Anger.
Then it’s gone.
Left behind is this understanding that I am blessed beyond comprehension.
Whether it is a doctor with a hopeless diagnosis. A family member with discouraging words. Someone who dares laugh at your dream. Your own internal voice that scoffs at your abilities.
They’re complete farkwits at being able to contain the depths of your possibility.
Here’s what you can do, you say: