The brightest day is crossed by shadows; the most glorious rainbow is born amid dark clouds. Every painting, or photograph, or tapestry is made up of light shades and dark. Without the darkness the light is meaningless, formless and void.
My life is filled with striving; struggle at work, at home, in my personal life and in my health. My aged mother lies in a hospice bed a few feet from where I’m sitting as I write this. Her moans of despair waft like smoke through the shadows as her life ebbs away. Every cough, every hiccup, every sigh is met with anxious, inquiring ears, ears that know all too well that each tortured breath may well be her last.
In all of this I refuse despair, I thrust it away and cry “Begone, you have no place with me!” The creator has given me this life and I will live it to the best of my ability with courage and grace and pray that when it is done the bright and dark colors and shades will combine to become a masterpiece, beautiful and unique with each part contributing to the whole in some way.
I can’t choose the cards but I can choose how I play the hand.