My Own Eulogy

So, I'm lying here in bed because I don't feel well enough to go to church today. Noelle texted me from church to tell me that there are a lot of people hacking and coughing. While I'm glad I'm not there to pick up any illnesses from people, I'm sad to miss out on church. But really, though, I'm not really sad. A year ago, I wasn't able to ever go to church because I had no immune system, and it would be dangerous for me to go. Today, it's more of a precautionary thing. I feel so incredibly blessed to have come as far as I have.

It's really a miracle when you think about it. Two years and three months ago, I was diagnosed with an incredibly high-risk form of leukemia, with high-risk markers in my DNA. The chances of my survival - even with a stem cell transplant - were low. Noelle and I did what we could to stay positive and focused on a favorable outcome. The hell that Noelle and I went through together and individually is not something I would wish on anyone. However, going through hell has helped both of us to gain an appreciation for God's love and mercy and grace in a way that we could not have gained it otherwise.

I'm so grateful to be in a position in which I know that I will be back to church. There are no worries about whether I will be well again, and there's no fear. My perspective on life has changed a great deal. A dear friend of mine in Sacramento who passed away last year lived with many health issues for many years. Every time I would speak with Patricia, and ask her how she was doing, she would always say, "every day is a blessing." I never really understood what she meant until these last two years. Truly, every day is a blessing…for each of us. It's just a question of whether or not we will recognize it as such, and make the most of that gift that we've received. I may not be feeling well physically today, but my heart is light as I recognize the incredible gift of life that I received in just waking up today. Years ago, I would wake up and take the fact that I woke up for granted. Now, every day that I wake up, I recognize the incredible gift that that is. And I recognize that I have the capacity to use that gift for good in ways that I never imagined before. I'm just one person, but one person can make a tremendous difference in this life. Just think about Nelson Mandela, Mother Teresa, Abraham Lincoln, Jesus Christ. Now, I would never put myself on equal footing with with any of them, but certainly I can look to them as an example of how my life can impact other lives for good. 

I think it really boils down to this: what kind of legacy do we want to leave behind? A couple weeks ago, I attended the funeral of a dear friend…a fellow fighter named Houston Holbrook. Throughout the funeral, as is common, people spoke of what a great man he was. But the thing that struck me was that with every compliment given to Houston, there were multiple examples demonstrating that those compliments were well-founded. And then, what struck me more deeply is that every day we live, we are writing our own eulogy. Is it a eulogy based in rhetoric or reality? Is it a eulogy filled with words about potential that went unrealized, or is it a eulogy filled with examples of how capabilities were turned into accomplishments? I wonder what could be said about me if I were to die today. Would flowery words fall mutely on the ears of people who would wonder, "Who was so blessed to have John in their life? Sure...he was a good guy, but really, did he make such a difference in my life?" I'm not saying that I seek posthumous praise from others. What I am saying is that I want my life to have meaning. Not just to me, but to others. I want to live each day with purpose. And I want to fulfill that purpose. Thoughts and intentions are important, but integrity - living in a way that the outward man is in perfect harmony with the inward man - is what really matters most.

Today - and every day - I write my own eulogy in the way I live.