It is Saturday night. I’m home alone wrestling with my thoughts. I haven’t had much joy lately, though I’m sort of getting by in life. If my life were written down as a story, it would be difficult for the writer to convey to the reader that I’m still alive; I haven’t done anything for a long time – nothing too productive, nothing too fun. I do feel dead in life. One of the only things that lets me know I’m still alive is the pain I feel. It is the misery that convinces me that I’m still alive.

    But as I sit here, I was pondering what I would do if I were miraculously healed. Healthy people sometimes have thoughts like these, but usually they are about money; what would I do if I won the lottery, and so forth. But as I sit here, I’m wondering what I would do if I were spontaneously healed. Would I go to medical school and become a psychiatrist? I’ve thought about it. Would I go into business? Thought about that too. I’ve asked myself this question in the past as well, and I have always drawn a blank. The reason being is that all my dreams had died – they were slaughtered by this horrific illness. Today, I ask myself the same question, and while the answer is not too important, the fact that there is an answer is. I have begun to dream again.

    I have so much to write on this topic, and because I want to express myself clearly, I will wait on publishing anything more on it for the next few days until I can write it up well. Please look for it in the next few days. In the meantime, please ask yourself what you would do if you received your miracle. How would your life change?