What If It Were Me. . .

"Your conscience is the measure of the honesty of your selfishness. Listen to it carefully." - Richard Bach, Illusions: The Adventures of a Reluctant Messiah

What if it were me? That was all I could think, as I left the apartment of my old friend. A friend who is currently struggling with brain cancer.

What if it were me who could no longer  walk without help from a wheelchair or walker. What if it were me who lost my ability to speak or write without difficulty. What if it were me whose life changed in an instant and something so far from my mind, like my ability to live past the day, was now all I could think of. What if it were me.

Variations of these thoughts plagued me, as I cried, yelled, and fell into pity and helplessness. Frustration came from the desperate thoughts that if no one would support my friend, who would support me? Who would run to my side and help me fight an enemy that seems so much bigger than me. What if it were me.

How could they not help him, I thought. What if it were them!? Then I thought, Well, maybe they never think it will be and maybe they're right. Maybe it never will be them or their close friend, or their mother, or their child who has to face something like this. So why is this my motivation? Why am I motivated by the fear that not fighting for my friend equates to no one fighting for me.

How selfish am I!? How could I honestly sit and feel sorry for myself, while my friend is facing one of the biggest challenges of his life!?

When I started to help with his fundraiser, I just wanted to help. I wanted to help just because he needed it. As I became involved in fundraising, I was astonished at how little people seemed to be moved by his story. Even with the simple things, like following a page on social media or giving up a meal at McDonald's to donate $5. I felt like I was pulling teeth to even get help administratively. My thoughts gradually changed from wanting to help to feeling like I had to help. I felt like somehow not helping would be reciprocated in my life at one low point or another. Like not reaching our goal meant we somehow failed ourselves.What a terrible way to think.

I believe we should help someone, when we can, because we can. Not because we're storing up good deeds for a rainy day. We should help because we genuinely care if another person survives or not. 

I love my friend and I'm sorry my mind switched to self-preservation in his time of need. Regardless of whether I ever get cancer or have to fight for my life, I will fight for his. It doesn't matter if it "could be" me, when it is him right now. Our goal is big but we will continue to work towards it. . . for Brandon.

God is still working on me and I don't believe he's done with my friend either :)

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Love unconditionally | Laugh until you can't any longer | Live life to the best of your ability ;)