Letters on Spirituality: Redemptive Suffering & Death
We sat there, my mom, dad, and I as the man in the white coat leaned against the counter next to alcohol swabs and sterilized medical things. When he said, “Stage III Non-Small Cell Lung Cancer,” I looked to mom as I always did when I didn’t understand the medical jargon.
The Lord has gifted me joy to accompany my grief, and has taught my young self that there is nothing I can do but give the joy the Lord gives me to others.
At the age of 32, this is my best handwriting. Close to ten years ago, four other Catholic campus missionaries and I were T-boned by a Mack Truck while driving to an end-of-the-semester retreat. I don’t remember a single day from the month that followed.
How Sister Theresa Aletheia Noble, FSP, a former atheist, confronts the meaning of death.
“Life took an unexpected turn when the loud, outgoing, talkative me was no longer able to talk. Yup. You read that right. After months of struggling with hoarseness and voice fatigue…”
Sweet sisters, my dearest, deepest dream died on Good Friday and it remains the greatest gift ever given to me.
On June 30, 2017, I journeyed to Waco, TX for a fun, summer getaway with a dear friend to visit the Gaines' Silos for the first time. On our way home, we were crushed between two 18-wheelers. Unfortunately, my friend did not survive, and I endured several severe injuries. After thirty days in the hospital.
"To my dear sister: Several summers have since passed, but the moment feels so close that I could reach out and grasp it: the off-kilter fan on her back porch toddled loudly, trying to create a sense of relief from the thickly humid summer air..."