Your sickness has not lessened who you are, but has added to it. ~ Emily J. Maurits




My mum has a chronic illness. She’s been sick for as long as I can remember. Mum, this letter is for you.




You don’t have to say it aloud. I’ve read it in your sighs, your looks, your actions.

The confession. The apology.

My sickness has damaged the happiness of my child.

I, who brought them into the world, who had all these plans, these hopes – have been able to do one percent of all I dreamed.

I wasn’t the one to bake with them, to take them to the beach, to bush walk, to laugh – someone else did these things, and sometimes, no one did them.




You don’t think these thoughts all the time. You are too strong, too smart, too sensible, for that. The hope you have in the life that will be (which will more than make up for this one) is too tenacious. Yet, sometimes, I suspect these thoughts wander through your mind. I know they would wander through mine, were the situations reversed.

So I write you this letter. Not because written words can replace spoken ones, but because there’s something formal about them, something reassuring. Besides, this letter is long, and often you don’t have the energy or health for an extended emotional chat — and that is okay.




I could remind you that I love you (and would never wish you away), simply because you are my mother — but you would laugh and shrug that off, because you believe that “All children think that.” Perhaps you are right.

I could explain that I never wanted any of the things healthy parents give their children. I never wanted to bush walk or cook or play Monopoly — and while that would be true in one sense (You are more important than your gifts.), it would be a lie to say I have never dreamed of an alternative life with a healthy version of you in which we did those things.

I could shrug away your concerns and point out that none of this matters, because we can’t change the past and we have a future to look forward to (What will be will be.), but that would be unhelpful, as it would trivialize your pain and mine.

So instead of explaining that your sickness has not minimized my life, I will tell you how it has enriched it.



  • give, even when you don’t receive.
  • receive, even when you can’t give.
  • live in a world that does not revolve around me.
  • seek something better than this life.
  • comfort someone older than myself.
  • view sickness as just one component of a person, and to respect them.
  • love in plenty and in want.
  • accept that life is not perfect, not ideal, and that’s okay — even good.


Those are the lessons I’ve learned from your sickness, but you are not your sickness.


You are you.


From you I’ve learned to love the elderly, to make do with little, to double question every fact and make rational decisions, to delight in animals (even those society does not deem cute!), to care enough about my appearance to look nice when I ought to, and not to care when I can’t, and most of all … to persevere, to get up and live each day, not because it’s exciting, not because life is always good, not because things are going my way, but because that is how we love others — and that is how we live for God.


Dear Parent with Chronic Illness,

At times you may feel like a failure. You may feel as though you have little to offer, and even less to delight in. You may feel as though you have not changed the life of your child one iota.

But know this:

In loving, you have taught your child how to love. In being imperfect, you have trained your child to seek perfection only in God. In being sick, you have shown your child how to genuinely live this life with all its ups and downs.

Dear Parent with chronic illness, you are loved, and your sickness has not lessened who you are, but has added to it.

Illness is not a good thing, but it has brought good — even if you can’t see it yet.

Much love,

Child of a Chronically Ill Parent

Emily J. Maurits

Emily J. Maurits

Chronic Joy® Contributing Writer

After working for several years in the public health sector, Emily is now studying theology. She believes we are all called to love suffering people, because that's what Jesus did. She is passionate about equipping and encouraging others to do just that, and founded for the family and friends of those with chronic illnesses. As well as uncovering God's presence in the chaos of life, she enjoys reading, running, and writing. Check out her memoir, Two Sisters & a Brain Tumour

You're invited!


Parenting and Chronic Illness


When Chronic Illness  is a Member of the Family

The keys to parenting when chronic illness is a member of the family are prayer; humor; flexibility; acknowledging loss, fear, and other uncomfortable emotions; embracing each member’s God-given worth; and loving one another deeply from the heart.


Being There: How to Love Those Who Are Hurting

Dave Furman

We all know people suffering from sickness, disability, depression, or grief. Where are we to find strength in such circumstances? Dave Furman offers support, encouragement, and wisdom for those called to care for others in need - equipping us to effectively care for the hurting and pointing us to the strength that God provides.

Buy from Amazon

The Soul of Shame

The Soul of Shame: Retelling the Stories We Believe About Ourselves

Curt Thompson

We're all infected with a spiritual disease. Its name is shame. Whether we realize it or not, shame affects every aspect of our personal lives and vocational endeavors. It seeks to destroy our identity in Christ, replacing it with a damaged version of ourselves that results in unhealed pain and brokenness. But God is telling a different story for your life.

Buy from Amazon


Suffering: Gospel Hope When Life Doesn’t Make Sense

Paul David Tripp

Sometimes life just hurts.

Out of nowhere, death, illness, unemployment, or a difficult relationship can change our lives and challenge everything we thought we knew--leaving us feeling unable to cope. But, in the midst if all this pain and confusion, we are not alone.

Buy from Amazon

Pin It on Pinterest

Share This
Skip to content