Like most people in the United States celebrate the fourth of July, they celebrate their freedom with a traditional barbeque of grilled hamburgers and hotdogs. As it gets closer to the night, the children played with Sparklers, Smoke Bombs, Parachutes, and Popper. While the teenagers have Bottle Rockets fights and light Roman Candles. When the day turns into night the adults light the Displayed Tubes, Aerial Repeaters, Aerial Shells, and even homemade bombs.
Unlike most people on Independence Day, I’m inside my house watching T.V on low volume. I have a plate of a hamburger and chips on my lap. Occasionally the house shakes from the fireworks and I’ll glance at the big living room window seeing the different colors paint the sky.
Life is a firework. Once second a bang goes off shaking your world completely. You don’t know if you are going to get a spark of colors or a cloud of smoke.
When I was nine years old, my grandma got diagnosed with Lung Cancer. That moment was a Parachute firework going off. Everyone in my family knew she would get cancer because she been smoking since my mom was a child, but we didn’t know if she would survive it. The wait was like waiting for the parachute to fall back down, and that took forever. It was like trying to search for the parachute guy in the night. I didn’t know how long I had with my grandma. Once I found the parachute guy, my grandma had only days left.
Grandma’s death was like a smoke bomb. She had good days that were like bright colors of the Smoke Bomb. But once she passed, I didn’t know about her death and that was like being in the mist of smoke after the colors faded. My mom tried to hide her death from me for three days. Once I found out I felt hollow like the Smoke Bomb.
In the months that followed my grandma’s death, I started to feel unwell. I was showing unknown symptoms and that was like a Roman Candle. Once second I felt fine, but following day I had a fever, and following that body ache. It was like my symptoms shot out like a Roman Candle and my body kept showing more.
Then one night in November, my mom took me to the ER. After many test, the doctor told my mom that I have Systemic Lupus with stage four of kidney failure and rheumatoid arthritis. This was like a Firecracker going off. One second everything was okay, then “BANG, POP”! I was a really sick kid in the stages of dying because my body couldn’t defend itself. The doctor told my mom about my illness, but it looked she couldn’t hear him because of the shockness of  my health’s Firecracker.
It seem like for awhile my life was a Firecracker. Problems would stop but out of nowhere “BANG” a list of problems would go off. I had a biopsy, three years of chemotherapy treatment, side effects from the chemotherapy and new medications, I lost my hair, I got bullied  in junior high, I missed a lot of school, and my parents got a divorced.
Even though most of my life’s fireworks felt like they were neverending,but during my senior year of high school I made some wonderful friends that showed me the love of God. I went to Church Camp and Youth Summit that summer. I learned that God fearfully and wonderfully made me and it’s okay to lean on Jesus to fight my illness and it’s also okay to ask for help. Once I learned that God loves me and Jesus is my fighter I become like a Fountain firework. On the way to building my relationship with Jesus I was shooting out colorful sparks. On my bad days with the Lupus, you might think that the Fountain would stop. But no, I kept shooting brightly sparks higher into the sky not giving up.
Life consist of fireworks. Not on the Fourth day of July of every year, but every day. They might be silent, colorful but cover in smoke, or unexpected and loud like Firecrackers, or they could be like a Fountain that keeps going. But no matter what the firework is, there’s going to a good colorful outcome.