A three-and-a half year chapter of my life will soon close. The physical remnants of it are in these five boxes. All of it will soon be over… 88 days left to be precise. 1,122 days completed and 88 left to go. 

Two of the boxes are the bottles that once stored hundreds-of-thousands of dollars of pharmaceuticals. One of the boxes stores memories and former hospital decorations. Two of the boxes store medical supplies. What does all this mean? 

I have had around $3 million dollars of medical treatment to take care of me. And yet, unlike a celebrity spending $3 million, not much was gotten nor is noticeable with this expenditure. The only thing it was spent on was to keep the status quo the same… to keep me living. And yet, it’s a heck of a deal: One-in five parents like mine will not get anything for their money. And yet in 89 days the chapter, the cover, and my closet door where these are stored, will close. 

My conundrum that I wrestle with on a daily basis is my existence. There are kids a lot better than me that God could have chosen to save. But he chose me… why? I don’t think I’m that great, I don’t see that much in me, so why? When I meet Him I might ask… or I might just worship. How does one live knowing that science doesn’t support their existence? A percent-of-a-percent-of-a-percent is the likelihood of someone like me surviving… and maybe that’s even too high. But God isn’t a god of statistics. He is a god of many things, including omnipotence. What in the world does He see in me?

What do I have to offer by being shaped by this chapter? Has it made me a better person? Has it made me a weaker person? Has it made a difference at all? Am I being turned into someone that is worth saving? 

The answer to all that I do not know. The answer to that I wish to know. The answer to that I might never know. The answer to that God does know. That is what these boxes mean to me.