I’ve never met Sara in person. I met her the same way many of us have, through her blog. We’ve traded comments on blog posts and messages on Twitter, but I was never as close to her as some others.
Sara has a lot of friends. It’s impossible not to love her once you’re introduced to her. I always felt so much compassion for her because of the things she suffered, due to a condition that ultimately left her home-bound, locked in her condo with only her faithful dog, Riley.
Though physically constrained, her heart and spirit are impossible to contain, and Sara reached out across the vast expanse of the Internet, and made friends everywhere. I read everything she posted, amazed at her positive outlook in spite of her circumstances.
I won’t lie – since I’ve known Sara, my life has been the most difficult it has ever been (and has been a roller coaster ride that doesn’t seem to want to stop). I’ve struggled with depression and family conflicts and a myriad of other issues. Somehow, when I would find myself wallowing in self-pity, I would always think of Sara, and instead of dwelling on my problems, I would offer up prayers for her.
Often my prayers were angry and questioning, wondering why God would allow such a beautiful soul to languish in the prison of a body fighting against itself. It just isn’t fair. I’ve done plenty to deserve my troubles, and probably deserve much worse, but Sara did not deserve to suffer the way she has.
Sara never seemed to think of things that way, though (which just goes to show how much better a person she is than myself). She had determined to choose joy, regardless of her circumstances, and her example has inspired countless others to do the same.
I celebrated with Sara when her friends would come to visit or send her gifts, I laughed with Sara at the antics of the blog dog, Riley and I cried with Sara when she lost her father suddenly and unexpectedly about a year ago. The strength of her faith to continue to choose joy inspired me. She has taught me so much.
Joy isn’t circumstantial; it doesn’t sneak up and surprise you. When you know in whom you believe, and trust that He holds you in his hand, you choose joy.
Although I’ve been walking through one of the most difficult times in my life, I inexplicably have joy, because I’m choosing it. I am certain, though, I would never have been able to do that without watching Sara do the same.
My heart is heavy, though, because Sara’s doctors have told her she won’t be here much longer, and I can’t get used to the idea of a world without her. But again, I’m choosing joy, knowing that she is soon to enter eternity, finally free from the prison of pain, and reunited with her father – safe in the arms of Jesus.
Sara, I’ll see you when I get there.