Faith
Faith is more than belief. It’s KNOWING.
Days like these, belief is harder to come by. That’s why faith is so important. I can KNOW that I’m on the right path for me, even when I find myself not quite believing. Believing that I’m the right person for it. That I’ll make it through. That what I know to be true is even possible. Or possible for me.
The last few days, I’ve had another cold. There’s powerful energies shifting in the world right now, and our bodies, minds and emotions are doing their best to keep up. Too woo? I had a stressful event a couple weekends ago, and sure enough, my immune system dipped.
I’m on the mend, but it’s a quiet time for work as an emcee; coaching has been slow this year, too. I’m feeling tired.
I’ve been working to build my own business in various forms for almost SEVEN YEARS. When I was doing doula work, I had momentum and steady income after about three years. Then the pandemic decimated that track, so I pivoted to coaching, which was a natural evolution for me, since I’d even been offering “virtual doula” services from 2019.
I’ve done some amazing work as a coach since 2021, and I have served my clients well. But the lead generation and sales process for something as unique and personal as coaching services is excruciating and exhausting. Maybe it’s because I haven’t found the processes that work for me yet, but no one really seems to have an answer for me about what will work, and I’m running out of the time and resources to continue the experiment.
Emceeing finally feels like the thing that will pay the bills, give me the creative freedom and flexibility I’m looking for as an entrepreneur and allow me to contribute to others’ incredible missions, visions and causes in a way that lights me up. It fits with my energy and skill set, and it’s SO MUCH easier to sell than coaching. It’s still a lot of work, though.
I feel like I’m building from scratch… again. Over and over again.
And this time, I’m doing it with cancer.
It’s not just my work that I feel hopeless about today. Days like this, I feel hopeless about my health, too. I put up a good front. Really try to keep my words and thoughts positive and encouraging— for myself as well as for the people around me. I still worry. Even though my skin is glowing. Even though I feel myself getting stronger. Even though I KNOW I’m on the right healing path for me. It’s taking so, so long. And I have yet to find a primary provider I truly trust to walk with me through it.
Today, I’m tired.
I’m tired of being strong. I’m tired of holding myself together. I’m tired of positive re-framing.
Today, I’m struggling. I feel scared. Alone. Afraid. Knocked down. I’m feeling like a failure. Like a burden. As though nothing I do will ever be enough— that I will never be enough.
It’s always been through writing that I find my way out of darkness and move back into light. And even though I haven’t been updating this blog as much as I intended, I have been writing on my own, for myself, in my journal. Harder thoughts than these sometimes.
Which is where faith comes in.
This is tough. At the same time, I’m leaning into the Biblical truth that my faith doesn’t have to be huge. Faith as small as a mustard seed can move mountains. Faith is knowing the truth and knowing that these hard feelings are temporary.
I am still doing my best. I know there’s a reason I’m still here. I know there’s a reason I haven’t already been taken down by something far more aggressive than this lymphoma. I’ve been trying to figure out what it is for my whole life. Still am.
In my sadness and frustration, I reached out to some friends. They are holding me in their belief because mine’s tapped out at the moment. Because of that, I know I’m not alone, and I am enough. I have faith in the path before me, however rough it may seem. I know that it won’t be like this forever, which helps me keep going.
To support me on my healing journey, visit saradeacon.com/support for a list of practical ways to help. To make a financial donation, click the button below.