Today, the beautiful Layla Grace lost her battle with Stage 4 Neuroblastoma.
I am regularly pompous enough to think that there is no situation that I cannot accurately and fully describe in words.
Today, I sit at my laptop’s keyboard, completely humbled.
I suppose it could sound really strange for someone to be so emotionally involved with the life of a child she’s never met. So in awe of a family she’s never laid eyes on, other than in internet pictures. But there is something about this little girl’s fight with cancer that is so raw, so gripping, so organically full of love, that I have been completely captivated by her. Her family has shown a courage and a strength I cannot even begin to imagine, let alone replicate — not to mention that both Shanna and Ryan (Layla’s parents) have been blessed with the ability to share their feelings and their faith about this part of their life so unselfishly and so eloquently in their blog about darling Layla.
It is a problem, this empathetic… quality? characteristic? … that I have. Mostly, I simply haven’t learned how to best utilize it so that it helps others in the ways they need without completely depleting my own reserves and causing me to lose focus on the mundane but very necessary aspects of life on Earth. So often, I have felt it’s a curse, to be able to really deeply feel someone else’s pain, be able to visualize a situation or problem or occurrence so vividly that I can actually feel, tactile-ly and emotionally, its inherent elements. For instance, I’m quite sure my youngest stepson would immediately agree that despite my dedication, genuine love, and pure intentions, more than once I have hurt him more than I helped him. I’m sure I’ve had a few employers who’ve both benefitted from it (think: coaching employees) and others who’ve simply surmised that I was A Royal Nutjob.
But there is one purely positive thing that being so empathy-prone offers me: once in a while, every so often, when I am least expecting it, it becomes the catalyst for completely renewing my faith. You see, I have quite a few other personality traits that are largely detrimental and unhealthy: I can so easily be discouraged. And I am hyper-critical to a serious, grave fault. But then, along comes Layla Grace, and I can SO CLEARLY see in her the message that God is trying to get through to each of us every single hour of every single day:
Dear You:
Be a walking example of My love. Be a living, breathing example of My strength. And remember, you are able to BE, simply because of Me, and you exist to complete the mission on earth for which I have made you.
Love,
God
Thank you, thank you, thank you, beautiful Layla Grace. Your days with pain are over, and you’ve endured them with more class and perseverance than many of us can embody in an 80-year lifetime. May your endless days of Heaven be filled with popsicles and puppies and rainbows.
You can find pictures of Layla Grace and her family here.
{ 6 comments… read them below or add one }
I have nothing to say. I think the tears that are streaming down my face and the small prayer I just said, well … thank you for sharing Mel. You are not alone … and again I wonder if we are the same person sometimes.
I am proud to call you daughter.
That was beautiful Mel! Hope that you guys are doing well. Things have definitely been a struggle but we are sticking together as a family and making lemonade with our lemons. I have been out literally pounding the pavement taking every opportunity that I can whether it is fixing computers, landscaping, selling vitamins or websites. It has been a humbling experience and I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world. Miss you guys and love ya lots!
It is said that Bhuha had that same empathy, tho his extended even unto the bugs. Meditation is the only way I can think of to rejuvenate yourself, Melissa.
that was Bhudha. Still spelled wrong, I know. Can you insert a spell checker somewhere?
Reading you again…thank you.