I WROTE THIS SOME TIME AGO BUT NEVER CONTINUED IT. SOMEWHERE ALONG THE WAY I “LOSt” MY SONG. BUT MAYBE NOT. MAYBE IT WAS STILL THERE ALL THE TIME. I OWE MY THANKS TO DAVID. YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE. YOU MADE ME BELIEVE IN MY SONG AGAIN.
THE MIRACLE OF MY LIFE: A STORY OF SURVIVAL.
My whole life could be said to be a miracle – the miracle of survival. Survival against all the odds. There is a song that I love to listen to – here are the words of it:
“If I were a singer, I’d sing you a song,
A song that would stay in your heart for ever,
I’d sing it loud and strong, every single word,
So that when my life is over, and I ne’er see you again,
The singer may die, but the song remain.” (Steelye Span)
This book is the song that I want to sing to the world – a song that I hope will remain when I am gone, when my life on this earth is over. It is a song that I want to sing loud and strong, for it is a song of SURVIVAL – a song of Love.
In May 2013 I was given the words,
“Mrs. Lewis, you have cancer.”
It was unexpected, even though I had been ill for a whole year and had gradually become so weak that I was unable to walk, or even lift my head off the pillow. I had to be wheeled into the hospital in a wheelchair. My response to the Consultant was,
“Will it kill me?” He replied,
“I don’t know.”
Outside, it was a bright sunny day – the sort of day when I should have been outside enjoying the sight of the beautiful Spring blossom on the trees, and the flowers that were beginning to bloom in all their various colours. Yet here I was, in a dark and drab hospital room, being told not only that I had cancer, but also that I may die.
Miraculously, after a hard battle, I survived, and in March 2014 I was told I was in remission. Not for the first time had I survived something that threatened my whole existence, both physical and mental, and also spiritual. I have survived so much in my life, and the hand of God has been upon me from the moment of my conception, and it is still upon me today.
After I had been given the awful news, we had gone home, “we” being myself, my husband and my mother. My husband rang my brother, who happened to be on holiday on Holy Island. My brother tells the tale of how the seals had been absolutely quiet all morning, but as he was being given the news, they started to wail, loudly. The wailing has now gone, and has been replaced by a song of joy. One night recently, my husband and I drew up outside a fast food outlet, and quite suddenly, we heard the most beautiful sound of a bird singing. The notes were pure and clear, piercing the dark night air. It startled us in its unexpectedness. But also it thrilled us. Its sheer beauty, ringing out into the darkness of the night, so strongly, lifted us almost to heaven. It was the song of a nightingale. Like the nightingale, I too had learned to sing in the dark, in the most unexpected places. My song is and has been a song of love and survival, despite the many perils that have come my way. It is a song about a Being whatever you call Him, Who says,
“I love you,” and Who from the moment of our conception, stretches out His hand and holds us, whatever we may go through, and however bad it may be.
I learned to sing when I was a child. I knew much fear, and not for no reason. At nights, I would sit up in bed and SING for all I was worth. It seemed to stave off the fear, and send the danger away. Singing became a survival mechanism for me. I SANG in the dark. And now, as an adult, in my moments of deepest darkness, and fear, I sing.
May we ALL learn to sing in the dark, for it is only in the darkness that the purest songs germinate.