Where I was about a year ago: The Awakening

I wanted to share with you an essay that I wrote over a year ago for my 12th grade AP English class, so you can get an idea of where I'm coming from. It is dated November 23, 2009.

A lot has changed since then. Now we have a somewhat conclusive diagnosis of Lyme disease. However, a lot has stayed the same.

It's best if you just read it.


The Awakening

As I awoke with another piercing migraine this morning, discouraging thoughts went racing through my head. I wondered if the pain would ever cease; if all the intercessory prayers, along with my own, would ever receive an affirmative response; if I would ever be able to enjoy my senior year of high school; if I would ever be on top again. Though my head was pounding, I arose from my warm and comfortable, queen-sized bed with a sigh, in order to arrive at yet another doctor’s appointment where I would undergo yet another diagnostic test. The fun just never ends.

This is a typical morning in the life of Elisabeth Edelman—a seventeen year old, chronic migraine sufferer. She has faced abounding disappointments, tainting every area of her life. Elisabeth’s view of hope is now as an unreachable, theoretical concept held captive behind a wall of suffering and despair that is built upon a firm foundation of unfortunate circumstances. Her passions and desires are suppressed by the burdens of the present, and the future is uncertain. Once uncertainty and disappointment merge, discouragement accelerates.

As my mom ignored multiple speed limit signs while driving me to my appointment, I reflected on what had taken place the previous night. Being blindsided in a conversation with my director, I was informed that my spot in a prestigious performance group was questionable. Though I was shocked, I knew my health dictated the action. If I ever thought that my life was hard enough, a curve ball would hit me, thus, convincing me otherwise. In that moment, quiet tears of sadness streamed down my face, being replenished by an overwhelming sense of helplessness. I could do nothing to change the situation.

The performing arts give Elisabeth an outlet to express herself. They are therapeutic in distracting her from the constant, searing pain. The stage is also a place where Elisabeth can do what she does best—act as if she is not suffering. It provides Elisabeth with a mask that she can wear in addition to the armor of courage and stoicism she must put on everyday. While authenticity is adulterated when masks are worn off stage, masks are expected and required to be worn on stage. However, if Elisabeth’s stage mask were torn off, it would expose a young girl with a wounded spirit and hinder her expression of passion.

After returning home, taking medication, and resting my eyes in hope of relieving some pain, I craved a taste of the outside world, so I checked my e-mail. With little expectation that any message in my inbox could lift my heavy-laden spirit, I was pleasantly surprised by what I assumed would be just another pestering college reminder. It contained an encouraging quote that Abigail Adams had written in a letter to her son, John Quincy, “The habits of a vigorous mind are formed in contending with difficulties. Great necessities call out great virtues. When a mind is raised, and animated by the scenes that engage the heart, then those qualities which would otherwise lay dormant, wake into life and form the character of the hero and the statesman.” I was not quite sure how it happened, but when I finished reading that powerful quote, my anxious thoughts were silenced.

As Elisabeth sits back in her chair, something awakes inside her. Her hope has broken through the wall of suffering and despair, illuminating the foundation of unfortunate circumstances. Her competitive nature has been refreshed, and she can now mentally prepare herself for battle against the opposition that currently wages war upon her entire being. Hope has transformed darkness into the light that guides Elisabeth through the despair of her present trial. Though she is in a season of grief, she knows that her pain is temporary while her hope is eternal.

I prayed the night before that God would remind me of what is essential in life, and He answered my prayer by restoring the hope that I had lost. Being caught in a storm of my own, I had lost sight of the blessings that have been bestowed upon me. I often pitied myself, and it consumed me. However, when I read Abigail Adams quote, I was inspired. I was reminded that my heart and mind are formed by the challenges I must face; without overcoming these obstacles, a crucial part of me remains dormant. Hope awakened my desire to endure this temporary pain in order that I may pursue my passions and live a joyous life again. I could lose everything, but if I have hope, I know I will be victorious.

Hope is the distinguishing factor separating despair and perseverance, and it is often found unexpectedly amidst struggle and hardship. Though at times it may seem as if hope has been captured by the high walls of despair, with a little faith and perseverance, hope can conquer those walls, take hold of passion and, thus, illuminate darkness. Character has the opportunity to develop the most when it is tested through the darkest trial; yet no light is too small for perseverance to be ignited, hope to be restored, and passion to be renewed. Ultimately, victory is won in the light.