Bethany

“Brothers and sisters in Christ frequently point to the lament psalms for those grieving. It’s often said they always end in hope. But not all do. Some end in unanswered pleas (Ps. 44, 74, 80, 88). In the whirlwind, God displayed power to Job, not answers (Job 38–41). When Lazarus died, Jesus didn’t offer Mary a sermon or remind her that he wasn’t in pain anymore. Jesus wept (John 11:32–35). Similarly, the pieces in this volume don’t always neatly resolve. They don’t always end in hopeful exhortations. Many end in silence. Silence is the sound of God listening.”
― Riley Bounds, Solum Journal Volume IV

“But Carol Gill says that it is differential treatment—disability discrimination—to try to prevent most suicides while facilitating the suicides of ill and disabled people. The social science literature suggests that the public in general, and physicians in particular, tend to underestimate the quality of life of disabled people, compared with our own assessments of our lives. The case for assisted suicide rests on stereotypes that our lives are inherently so bad that it is entirely rational if we want to die.”
― Alice Wong, Disability Visibility: First-Person Stories from the Twenty-first Century

“The medical uncertainty compounds patients' own uncertainty. Because my unwellness did not take the form of a disease I understood, with a clear-cut list of symptoms and a course of treatment, even I at times interpreted it as a series of signs about my very existence. Initially, the illness seemed to be a condition that signified something deeply wrong with me⁠—illness as a kind of semaphore. Without answers, at my most desperate, I came to feel (in some unarticulated way) that if I could just tell the right story about what was happening, I could make myself better. If only I could figure out what the story was, like the child in a fantasy novel who must discover her secret name, I could become myself again.

It took years before I realized that the illness was not just my own; the silence around suffering was our society's pathology.”
― Meghan O'Rourke, The Invisible Kingdom: Reimagining Chronic Illness

“I may not find joy every day. Some days will just be hard, and I will simply exist, and that’s okay, too. No one should have to be happy all the time—no one can be, with the ways in which life throws curveballs at us. On those days, it’s important not to mourn the lack of joy but to remember how it feels, to remember that to feel at all is one of the greatest gifts we have in life. When that doesn’t work, we can remind ourselves that the absence of joy isn’t permanent; it’s just the way life works sometimes. The reality of disability and joy means accepting that not every day is good but every day has openings for small pockets of joy.”
― Alice Wong, Disability Visibility: First-Person Stories from the Twenty-first Century