As a person who has struggled with Bipolar Disorder and Depression all of my life, I am thankful that God has given me the talents and self confidence to speak up. A struggle with emotions is not a sign of weakness or lack of faith. Especially when we make every effort to make the world a better place because of the lessons we learn from our own lives. I have said this before, my inspiration, Bertie Mae (my maternal grandmother) used to always say when you have lemons and you are making lemonade, the most important ingredient is sugar. There is no judgement and no shame in sugar...leave that to vinegar!
I have been so blessed to be encouraged by my friends and loved ones to continue my writing and public speaking on my platform of EMOTIONAL WELLNESS. I have decided to separate my blog into two subjects. One will be dedicated to family stories, political commentary, etc., and the other to motivate others to conquer their illnessess with Emotional Strenth. I am so thankful for the talents God has given me. For without the person I was, and the places I have been, I would not be who I am. Soon I will be launching a new website as a public speaker, completing my book, "Porch Swings and Prayer," continuing my advocacy of mental health and I hope you will check out both blogs as often as possible and sign up to be a follower.
Please read the lovely story below. It is an excellent demonstration of our roles as Christians, even as human beings should be in helping one another.
Two men, both seriously ill, occupied the same hospital room..
One man was allowed to sit up in his bed for an hour each afternoon to help drain the fluid from his lungs. His bed was next to the room's only window. The other man had to spend all his time flat on his back. The men talked for hours on end. They spoke of their wives and families, their homes, their jobs, their involvement in the military service, where they had been on vacation.
Every afternoon, when the man in the bed by the window could sit up, he would pass the time by describing to his roommate all the things he could see outside the window. The man in the other bed began to live for those one hour periods where his world would be broadened and enlivened by all the activity and color of the world outside. The window overlooked a park with a lovely lake. Ducks and swans played on the water while children sailed their model boats. Young lovers walked arm in arm amidst flowers of every color and a fine view of the city skyline could be seen in the distance.
As the man by the window described all this in exquisite details, the man on the other side of the room would close his eyes and imagine this picturesque scene. One warm afternoon, the man by the window described a parade passing by. Although the other man could not hear the band - he could see it in his mind's eye as the gentleman by the window portrayed it with descriptive words.
Days, weeks and months passed. One morning, the day nurse arrived to bring water for their baths only to find the lifeless body of the man by the window, who had died peacefully in his sleep. She was saddened and called the hospital attendants to take the body away.
As soon as it seemed appropriate, the other man asked if he could be moved next to the window. The nurse was happy to make the switch, and after making sure he was comfortable, she left him alone.
Slowly, painfully, he propped himself up on one elbow to take his first look at the real world outside. He strained to slowly turn to look out the window besides the bed. It faced a blank wall.
The man asked the nurse what could have compelled his deceased roommate who had described such wonderful things outside this window. The nurse responded that the man wasblind and could not even see the wall.
She said, 'Perhaps he just wanted to encourage you.'
Story passed on to me by my dear sweet friend Patsy Rich.
