When I was first diagnosed with Motor Neurone Disease (MND), I was told in nearly the same breath that there was nothing the medical world could do. MND is considered to be one of the world’s incurable diseases, most people dying within two years of diagnosis.

From that first moment, I chose to be an early adopter. I faced the reality of death, prepared for it even, and chose not to fear it.  Some would call this “acceptance.”

However, that doesn’t mean I fly the white flag of “surrender.”  I want to live as long as I can and see my grandchildren grow up around me, as well as finish the race God has chosen me to run. I, like many others, refuse to believe that MND is incurable.  We just haven’t found the cure yet.

So, I had my amalgam fillings removed, I began a strict regime of vitamins and minerals, I put weight on, I drastically reduced my workload, I began fundraising for a cure, I asked people to pray for me and I have rested in the life, love and the light of Jesus.  Most recently, I have also begun an experimental treatment available only in Europe.

I have a strong faith in the miracle working power of Jesus as well as believing that God can cure through the wonders of medicine, and the process of regeneration put into our human frailty by God Himself.  Not to mention, the comfort that when all is said and done, heaven is our home and a place of no sickness or sorrow.

Seeking medical help in no way cancels out God’s ability to move in our lives.  It in no way negates our faith or prayers. God is involved in all facets of our life, the medical science, the miraculous, and the eternal.  In fact, all are expressions of His love, care and kindness toward a world that will continue to struggle against sickness and disease.

I personally walk the line between doing what I can in the natural, and believing God to do what He can in the supernatural.  They are not mutually exclusive

Let me be clear that we do not disqualify God from intervening in our situation by relying on man’s advancement in medicine. 

The right to try is first and foremost a response of the terminally ill to value life and living. It often involves weighty decisions that carry unseen consequences.  For example, volunteering for experimental drugs (as I have done) disqualifies you from future clinical trials here in Australia. That was my choice.  Another is the uphill battle to access drugs not yet approved by our government. 

Yes, the right to try has its challenges, but they are nothing like the challenge of not trying.  It is time we spoke more vigorously about the “right to try”, not just “the right to die”. 

 Death is inevitable, but life is too precious not to try and do everything we can to live.