So today I start a new series, called NO FEAR JUST FAITH… Although I’m proudly Christian this has no religious affiliations, I just realised how many inspiring people I knew, how many people were just going on faith and leaving fears behind…
No Fear just Faith was my mantra when I lost my son, when my husband lost his job, when I found out I’m insulin resistant and have a liver disease, while battling depression and now when I decided to make this huge life change, it is once again, no fear just faith.
I don’t really follow celebs much so I don’t look up to anyone like that, but starting today I will introduce you to people I do look up to, people who inspire me and make me want to be a better person. Some like today will be heart-wrenching others lighthearted, but all INSPIRING (well I think so anyway) š
My first person is a talented 26 year old, she is gorgeous and extremely “real” and shares with us the story of losing what she perceived as “her beauty” . . .
“You are beautiful. So beautiful. Fearfully and wonderfully made. You are preciously beautiful. I call you beautiful.ā As though whispered from afar, yet almost audible, the words resounded over and over in my head. By a will of its own, my right hand kept pulling and plucking away at what was left of my once healthy, bushy hair. I could barely look at my reflection in the bathroom mirror and gasped to see the growing pile of hair in the sink. To see it there, not on my head but in a dead pile like castaway waste, separate from me somehow seemed wrong…off.
I finally lifted my eyes from the oddity in the sink to face the strange view in the mirror. The face was gaunt, almost shapeless, unrecognizable. And so pale. I couldnāt make out where my forehead ended and my scalp startedā¦one long stretch of pale with a few strands of hair clinging stubbornly to their shafts. I swallowed repeatedly and fiercely against the stubborn knob in my throat. Suddenly I felt the reality of this deadly disease that was taking over my body come searing through my heart like a red-hot knife and I literally clutched my chest to stop the bleed as I felt my heart breaking.
āMommy!ā I sobbed. And then her arms were around me, her voice soothing āItās ok, you are still beautiful. Oh my childā¦Itās gonna be ok.ā I buried my face in her chest and gave way to the unearthly ache that I couldnāt bear but couldnāt escape from. My legs were caving and it was all I could do to keep myself from collapsing to the cold tiled floor. I heard my momās voice rise and fall as she prayed aloud but I couldnāt make out her words. Her hands were warm down my back, a slow rhythm of comfort and empathy.
For weeks afterward I would turn away from the mirror until Iāve secured my wig. It became my hideout ā hideous but safe. It was too shiny and the strands hung hopelessly long, so obviously fake. But at least I didnāt have to look at the strange bald head that apparently belonged to me.
Today, almost a year later, I recognized that my life is a story of Godās infinite grace and finally felt brave enough to ditch the wig.
Hello, world āŗ
My name is Claricia Coeries. Iām 26 years old and I choose to be brave enough to fight leukaemia and breast cancer.
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