No one grows up saying, “I think I’ll get sick,” and spends the rest of their life trying to survive a constant battle between life and death. Instead, we grow up believing we’re invincible. We believe nothing bad could ever happen to us because we have hopes and dreams to fulfill. There’s never a good time to have poor health.
In 2002, my husband, Juan, contracted valley fever which disseminated into fungal meningitis, causing irreparable scarring on his brain. For nine years, our time was primarily focused on my husband’s illness and disability. Our three children lived with the uncertainty of their father’s mortality. As a family, we learned to live as if each day was the last, but to have hope for the future. We made memories and made plans. There were times we didn’t know if we could survive, but as a family we found the strength in God to stay together. We were blessed with many tender mercies from the Lord as we traveled what appeared to be an endless road.
We understood that even though our trials seemed long, they were merely a short segment of mortality, and that our lives will continue to exist beyond the grave. Most importantly, we learned that love heals all and serving one another is truly a blessing for ourselves. As a married couple, Juan and I witnessed countless miracles touch our lives as we exercised faith for enduring the end.