A bit of soul-baring...

Faith is... that little thing that makes you keep believing, even when you feel totally lost and unsure of anything.

So when we lose our faith, are we just disillusioned, or are we coming to our senses? I've seem to be hearing quite a bit that people with faith are really fools, and everyone seems to be waiting for them to come crashing back to reality. Why is faith on my mind? It just seems that you can be so sure of something and someone else can just as strongly believe you are wrong. If that makes sense...

For instance, the people fighing to hard to save Terri Schiavo's life were referred to on Larry King live as fundamental pro-lifers with some kind of twisted right wing agenda. Go ahead, read it . Which makes anyone who tried to fight for this woman's life look like some crazy fanatic who was only doing it because it was a "pro-life" invasion of religious beliefs on other people's rights. So, I start questioning myself, and what I thought I was fighting for.

It would be really nice if lies were non existant; if truth was certain, and you didn't have to wonder. Most of me says I did the right thing, but a tiny, stupid part of me gnaws away, and asks what if I am just supporting some right-wing zealot cause, and that's it's not about Terri at all, just like good ol' boy Mr. Schaivo says? If I thought she wasn't really there, that her mind was really gone, and that her husband really wanted peace for her, I wouldn't be fighting this so hard. Because frankly, I wouldn't want to be alive, either, if I could no longer think or see or feel. But is that the case? According to Micheal Schaivo, it is. And he puts tiny seeds of doubt in your mind; which is also, I might add, a firm rock of certainity for some of you. But then again, all she needs is a feeding tube; we all need food and water. All of would die without it; is that artificial life support then?

So what side do we err on? I guess, for me, I'd rather err on the side of caution.

So here's the big question: What if she did say, "Don't keep me alive if I ever get like that"? I'm sure she didn't plan on it happening. Was it an offhand, casual remark, after a t.v. show about severely disabled people kept alive artificially, or did she sit down with her husband and say, "This is what I want..." Be honest - None of us would want to be in that condition, conscious or unconscious, no one would choose it.

But many of us appreciate life so much, that the people and the love we share make life what is worth living, not the fact that we can feed ourselves or brush our own hair. Why take that away from her? Does she still want it taken away from her? I don't know, and perhaps I helped to do her a grave disservice; or perhaps I really did what I thought I was doing and saved a woman's life.

Where did it happen that our society so values perfection that we feel life is not worth living if we can't meet that? True, I can't say how I'd feel in someone else's shoes, but then, neither can someone else say, "Her life is so horrid, I'm sure she doesn't want to live,"

When I was 16, I was diagnosed with Neurofibroma-tosis, a genetic disorder which can be mild, but it can also be quite severe, causing tumors on the nerves, etc. It also can cause tumors on the skin, which can be disfiguring. However, it usually doesn't show up until adulthood. When I was 16, this news was the end of my world. No one would ever want to marry me, I was sure; I was also certain that no one would like me, even for a friend, if I wasn't normal looking; and I really didn't think that life was worth living if I didn't have friends.

So really, I got a certain carelessness, because I was pretty sure that I wanted people to remember me when I was still pretty. At 16, 25 seemed a long way off, and I was sure I was gonna live it up, have fun, and be gone way before I hit 25. I was pretty reckless on purpose, if you get my drift; because at that point, I thought my world would end if I wasn't pretty anyway, and I didn't want to find out. I sure as heck didn't want to be stared at and have nosy rude people ask me what was wrong with my skin. Big deal, I've had it happen, already; I survived it.

But guess what, I hit 25, and I don't have the perfect body anymore (if I ever did). But I enjoy life too much, I love my friends and family too much; I guess being pretty just isn't that important in the spectrum of things. And I realized if someone can't see past what they see on the outside, they're definately too shallow and self-centered and not worth having as a friend anyway. I'm not saying it doesn't bother me, but I am saying this. When you have it all, you can't imagine what life would be like without it, so it seems like life wouldn't even be worth living. But then when you start to lose it, you realize something else. You were lucky. And you still are lucky. I may not have perfect genes. My parents were, in my Psychology teacher's rather cold terms, "candidates for genetic counselling". Am I perfect? No. Do I wish my parent's had gotten an abortion and "spared" me? No. My life has been so blessed, and so rich with opportunity and experience; I wouldn't ever give any of it up, even if could look like Cindy Crawford for even a day. And its the people in my life that mean the most to me, not the horses I rode, or the rocks I climbed or the fast cars and bikes I rode/drove. But, if I didn't have my friends or family, or my faith, I'll be honest; I don't think life would be worth living. I guess that's why I fought so hard for Terri. Not that I think my life was any where near as difficult as hers, not hardly. But as to family and freinds who love her; she still has that. That's all she has. Who is anyone to take that away from her?