I'm reminded these last couple of days of how one woman chose joy in spite of her circumstances and now is being called home. I've seen her at In courage. I've read some of her five-minute posts. And, although she could not move outside her condo anymore, I was amazed by what her fingers could do in five minutes. In what I read of her posts, I caught glimpses of her physical pain yet, never did I see it damper her spirit. Instead, I was inspired by her joy in spite of her circumstances.
Her story and others closer to home, lately, have caused me to evaluate my own existence:
How do you grasp death with a sense of joy when your stakes are in all you leave behind?
How do you look death in the face and laugh when you're afraid of it?
How do you press on toward the goal when all you can see is everything surrounding you?
And have given me some perspective:
Uproot those stakes from the seen to the unseen.
Believe death has been defeated.
Live your faith passionately as thought training for the Olympics.
When I pass from this temporary home, may I know the joy of where I'm headed because of where I've placed my stakes, because I didn't just know but believed, and because I had been training for that prize my entire earthly existence.
May people like, Sara, be my example.