I haven't written in a long while, I know. I'll save a more practical update for the end, but here goes my attempt for an entry. These entries often end up like random color samples of paint splashed on a wall, and I pray it makes into some kind of art.
About six months ago or so, I watched a movie, did I mention this already? I watched "A Fault In Our Stars" which is about young adults with cancer. I don't know how to share this without ruining the movie, but long story short - the main character is dying, throughout the whole movie the viewers know this. She goes to a support group full of young adults with cancer, they talk, some end up hanging out (because where else do you find immuno compromised people your age to relate to?), and she ends up dating one of the guys in the group who was recovering from a sarcoma. The guy ends up finding out his cancer has returned in full force, and they have to process the dying part of life together as young people. She writes his eulogy, and he passes. Anyhow, I absolutely bawled watching this movie......even for like three hours after it was over. That's how I knew something was wrong, I think. At least I thought, but now, I question it.
Have I become softer? And is this God's design, or do I just really need healing? I was telling a friend who is recovering from cancer as well this week:
It has also shown me what a way I have to go in emotionally healing from such a trauma. You just don't realize it in the midst of it all, the reality of addressing thoughts like, "well, this is what the doctor said, I know that it isn't good news and I haven't had good news for a while, but what's the next step? Let's get on with it." Seems like in the midst of it we just address the physicality and thankfully just trust God's sovereignty, but there's something surreal about letting words like "surgery" and "cancer" and "clinical trials" and "chemotherapy" and "hospital" and "oncology" and "nuclear medicine" and "tumor" just fly by you with the speed of light. We take it on as though it can't phase us, God is sovereign, and He is. But after the words stop flying by for a while, after you peak your head up out of the trenches to survey the battle raging above you - you begin to realize the weight of the bombs disguised as words flying by you. It's all a lot, and ones you'd never dreamed you'd hear. Not now, not in this stage of life. It takes time to heal.
Maybe, just maybe, cancer is a good thing that happened to me after all. I've noticed I'm way more hesitant to judge, quicker to give grace; by God's grace, I have more patience with people who don't understand; I get less frustrated with others; my heart hurts for those without jobs or being pushed out of jobs; my heart hurts for people who have to put their life on hold because illness, divorce, loss, unemployment get in the way; gossip hurts my heart way more than it used to with a stronger conviction; my distaste for sin in general has grown; my thirst for God's word and for prayer has only grown exponentially; I want to celebrate life's moments more - new babies, engagements, marriages, birthdays, anniversaries, old friends, laughs, smiles, new homes, new recipes, etc.; I just want my life to count, count for God first and foremost. I don't know how people do it without Jesus.
Anyhow, so this is what I'm working on. It's crazy to read about the recent loss of Kara Tippetts, and how she slipped out of this world and into eternity in the arms of an everlasting grace in such a beautiful way. What's crazy and seemingly more traumatic is that I remember the inklings of those thoughts beginning for myself just a short 1.5 years ago. A legitimate moment, at my mother's home while in bed (because I was too sick and too weak to be out and about for long) still on chemotherapy with two spots on my lungs, staring the grim statistics in the face. In those moments, you have to give yourself the permission to go ahead and cry. You're not victimizing yourself, you're not weak - it actually takes strength to accept the moment you're in, and just grieve. Half the time you won't even know what you're grieving, I didn't in the moment, still don't half the time. But it does bring me freedom to know that Jesus wept (John 11:35) too.
For some unknown reason, God gave me a second chance. The time where I had to ponder, for real, where I had to look life in the face and actually ask the tough questions - at an age I never thought would occur. What is REALLY important? In fact, the girl in "A Fault In Our Stars" could have easily been me, or you, or anyone. Like her, I had a good friend that I had met in oncology at the hospital. Brandon was his name, I've written about him on here before. He passed away last May, and I still can't believe he is gone. Seems like not that long ago both of us were riding horses while on treatment and waiting for CT scans together. He was only 33 years old. Watching him have to mentally process the unthinkable, unfathomable, dying.....knowing you just won't get better. For Kara, she would say:
"When you come to the end of yourself, that's when something else can begin."
"The only way we ever really die with dignity - is to have lived with dignity."
I could go on and on, but read her story. You won't regret it. Have Kleenex nearby. All that to say, I don't know each day if I'm going to do things right, make mistakes (because I make way too many to count, seriously, especially these days), or how the day will end up. God is sovereign, and I trust He uses all things for our good. I can't control how people will treat me, but I can control how I treat them. I can love them as best I can for God's glory (1 Corinthians 13), I can choose to be patient with them, be kind with them, I can decide to not be envious or prideful or condescending, I can decide not to be arrogant or rude, I can decide to not be self-seeking, I can decide to not be irritable or resentful, I can can decide to not rejoice in wrongdoing, but rejoice with the truth. I can love them, with God's help, to bear all things, believe all things, hope all things, and endure all things. I can pray that God equips me with His unfailing love, so I can point people to a Love that never fails.
I'm incredibly blessed to have a number of friends and family who have weathered all of this with me, and it is a privilege to weather life with them. A blessing God allows me to live out, and I never want to waste it. God continues to refine me day by day, and I only hope that out of His grace, it is to be more like Him and to love more like Him. Even if He had to use cancer, the end result is worth it and eternal.
About six months ago or so, I watched a movie, did I mention this already? I watched "A Fault In Our Stars" which is about young adults with cancer. I don't know how to share this without ruining the movie, but long story short - the main character is dying, throughout the whole movie the viewers know this. She goes to a support group full of young adults with cancer, they talk, some end up hanging out (because where else do you find immuno compromised people your age to relate to?), and she ends up dating one of the guys in the group who was recovering from a sarcoma. The guy ends up finding out his cancer has returned in full force, and they have to process the dying part of life together as young people. She writes his eulogy, and he passes. Anyhow, I absolutely bawled watching this movie......even for like three hours after it was over. That's how I knew something was wrong, I think. At least I thought, but now, I question it.
Have I become softer? And is this God's design, or do I just really need healing? I was telling a friend who is recovering from cancer as well this week:
It has also shown me what a way I have to go in emotionally healing from such a trauma. You just don't realize it in the midst of it all, the reality of addressing thoughts like, "well, this is what the doctor said, I know that it isn't good news and I haven't had good news for a while, but what's the next step? Let's get on with it." Seems like in the midst of it we just address the physicality and thankfully just trust God's sovereignty, but there's something surreal about letting words like "surgery" and "cancer" and "clinical trials" and "chemotherapy" and "hospital" and "oncology" and "nuclear medicine" and "tumor" just fly by you with the speed of light. We take it on as though it can't phase us, God is sovereign, and He is. But after the words stop flying by for a while, after you peak your head up out of the trenches to survey the battle raging above you - you begin to realize the weight of the bombs disguised as words flying by you. It's all a lot, and ones you'd never dreamed you'd hear. Not now, not in this stage of life. It takes time to heal.
Maybe, just maybe, cancer is a good thing that happened to me after all. I've noticed I'm way more hesitant to judge, quicker to give grace; by God's grace, I have more patience with people who don't understand; I get less frustrated with others; my heart hurts for those without jobs or being pushed out of jobs; my heart hurts for people who have to put their life on hold because illness, divorce, loss, unemployment get in the way; gossip hurts my heart way more than it used to with a stronger conviction; my distaste for sin in general has grown; my thirst for God's word and for prayer has only grown exponentially; I want to celebrate life's moments more - new babies, engagements, marriages, birthdays, anniversaries, old friends, laughs, smiles, new homes, new recipes, etc.; I just want my life to count, count for God first and foremost. I don't know how people do it without Jesus.
Anyhow, so this is what I'm working on. It's crazy to read about the recent loss of Kara Tippetts, and how she slipped out of this world and into eternity in the arms of an everlasting grace in such a beautiful way. What's crazy and seemingly more traumatic is that I remember the inklings of those thoughts beginning for myself just a short 1.5 years ago. A legitimate moment, at my mother's home while in bed (because I was too sick and too weak to be out and about for long) still on chemotherapy with two spots on my lungs, staring the grim statistics in the face. In those moments, you have to give yourself the permission to go ahead and cry. You're not victimizing yourself, you're not weak - it actually takes strength to accept the moment you're in, and just grieve. Half the time you won't even know what you're grieving, I didn't in the moment, still don't half the time. But it does bring me freedom to know that Jesus wept (John 11:35) too.
For some unknown reason, God gave me a second chance. The time where I had to ponder, for real, where I had to look life in the face and actually ask the tough questions - at an age I never thought would occur. What is REALLY important? In fact, the girl in "A Fault In Our Stars" could have easily been me, or you, or anyone. Like her, I had a good friend that I had met in oncology at the hospital. Brandon was his name, I've written about him on here before. He passed away last May, and I still can't believe he is gone. Seems like not that long ago both of us were riding horses while on treatment and waiting for CT scans together. He was only 33 years old. Watching him have to mentally process the unthinkable, unfathomable, dying.....knowing you just won't get better. For Kara, she would say:
"When you come to the end of yourself, that's when something else can begin."
"The only way we ever really die with dignity - is to have lived with dignity."
I could go on and on, but read her story. You won't regret it. Have Kleenex nearby. All that to say, I don't know each day if I'm going to do things right, make mistakes (because I make way too many to count, seriously, especially these days), or how the day will end up. God is sovereign, and I trust He uses all things for our good. I can't control how people will treat me, but I can control how I treat them. I can love them as best I can for God's glory (1 Corinthians 13), I can choose to be patient with them, be kind with them, I can decide to not be envious or prideful or condescending, I can decide not to be arrogant or rude, I can decide to not be self-seeking, I can decide to not be irritable or resentful, I can can decide to not rejoice in wrongdoing, but rejoice with the truth. I can love them, with God's help, to bear all things, believe all things, hope all things, and endure all things. I can pray that God equips me with His unfailing love, so I can point people to a Love that never fails.
I'm incredibly blessed to have a number of friends and family who have weathered all of this with me, and it is a privilege to weather life with them. A blessing God allows me to live out, and I never want to waste it. God continues to refine me day by day, and I only hope that out of His grace, it is to be more like Him and to love more like Him. Even if He had to use cancer, the end result is worth it and eternal.
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