During the night when all is dark, many of the distractions of life are quieted. It is there that the fears, struggles, doubts and disbeliefs are awakened and I am left to wrestle with them until either my mind is exhausted or my heart finds peace.
This is what was on my mind a couple nights ago.
Just after my cancer diagnosis my sister gave me a sticky note with a name and number on it. It was of a friend of hers (and young mother) who had been diagnosed with breast cancer. At the beginning of my journey, her friend had offered to be a listening ear and support to me and had given us some good resources. Earlier this month this friend found out her cancer had spread. And just a few days ago my sister let me know that her friend had passed away.
Processing the loss, my sister posted this message on Facebook:
"I had a dream once that the rapture was happening. There were trumpets and people were literally being lifted upwards. My heart was pounding in anticipation and it was by far the best dream I'd ever had! Then I woke up. Disappointed.
After hearing of a friend's passing today (leaving behind a husband and three young boys), I find myself longing for the rapture - for Heaven. My dad described it well. He was in a melancholic mood and I asked what was wrong. He said he was 'homesick for Heaven'. It took me a while to understand how you can be homesick for a place you've never been. But I get it now. I too am homesick for the Place where everything will be right. Some think there can't be a God because of cancer and pain. I think God hates the cancer and pain as much as we do. He too longs for the perfection He planned and although He has ultimate control, He is letting us try it our way a bit longer.
I am thankful for SO many things in life, but today, I'm homesick for Heaven."
My heart is aching for this family. For three boys who are going to bed and waking up in the morning without being kissed and hugged by their mom. For a husband trying to cope with losing his best friend and overwhelmed at the thoughts of the future but yet trying to hold it together for his boys. And then there are parents, family and friends who are reeling at how life changed from celebration to mourning in the blink of an eye.
And then I look at my life right now. I'm doing well and celebrating that I'm alive. And I'm aware of how fragile life is and how quickly things can change. I try and remind myself of this when I'm hugging my boy who has woken up for the fourth time in the night... when I don't feel like making lunch for my husband... when my heart has trouble focusing when listening to my friends' hearts.
Amidst the joy of knowing that I'm doing well today is the very present awareness of the grief and sorrow and loss that many around me are experiencing. It almost feels selfish to feel joy... but yet to live in mourning feels disrespectful to the the good things in my life (and the Giver).
Why have I been given the gift of having my cancer respond to treatment? Why has my body not been affected too adversely by side effects? Why has chemo left me feeling better rather than worse? And then my mind also sometimes asks the question why did I ever have to have cancer in the first place? And why wasn't it found earlier?
I have asked each of these questions and don't believe I've received an answer to any of them. And while my mind and heart could dwell on answers I haven't received, what I do know is that I have been given much.
And when faced with life and death, I choose to be overwhelmed with God's intangible gifts of peace, faith and trust. Like my sister and dad have shared, I long for Heaven... for perfection... where illness and mourning have no place... where all that I need to do is bask in the presence of my Creator and repeatedly tell Him what He means to me.
But today I'm living in a broken world, my body is full of cancer and there is a family that is grieving the loss of their wife & mother... so until that precious day when I get to taste perfection, I desire to be fully present in and grateful for each moment of today.
My heart broke when I got the news on Friday of Julie's death. I was holding the phone, hearing the words from another friend, as my knees gave way and I sank to the floor. I cried for all that she, and her family, will now miss because of her death and for my own loss as her death brought to the forefront of my mind and heart the loss of my own mom to this horrible disease. The weekend was hard. I found myself weeping at unexpected moments, asking once again all of the same questions I asked when my mom passed. As I laid in bed on Sunday, seeking peace and a sense of order to the chaos that seemed to have overtaken my heart, I read the following quote from "The Shack" that a friend posted to his facebook wall that evening: (God speaking to human) "Just because I work incredible good out of unspeakable tragedies doesn't mean I orchestrate the tragedies. Don't ever assume that my using something means I caused it or that I needed it to accomplish my purposes. that will only lead you to false notions about me. Grace doesn't depend on suffering to exist, but where there is suffering you will find grace in many facets and colors." There is peace in knowing His grace is more than sufficient to carry us through those hard times.
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ReplyDeleteHi Krista. I read your blog faithfully and pray for you. I read a blog post of another lady that I follow. Just to give you some background : Three years ago her family was involved in an accident, her husband was killed, and her four children were very badly injured. They are still struggling with physical repercussions from the event as well as grief. She posted these beautiful words which touched my heart, and I thought I'd pass them on to you.
ReplyDelete"Just before Christmas, Bryn spent a night in an incredible amount of pain. She called me from downstairs at 3:00 a.m. because she couldn't stand it anymore. It has been a few months since it has been this bad. We spent so many nights trying to make it through to the next morning, nights when nothing stopped how badly it hurt. This was one of those nights. I finally crawled into bed and just held her; there was again, nothing more I could do. I began to pray that God would relieve her pain, but we have prayed that so many times in the past and still had to endure. Finally, in silence, I desperately began asking, over and over, to give me her pain. Let me take it Lord, I cried. I cannot bear to watch her endure another moment, let me do it. Let me do it for her. I'm begging you.
After a few minutes of this internal plea, Bryn whispered, "I think it's getting better." And finally slept.
I was so grateful. As I finally got back into my own bed and lay there, God's love for us flooded me; it truly overwhelmed my heart and my mind as I felt the truth of a God, who after enduring the suffering of His children reaping the rewards of sin on this earth, finally had to cry out, "Let Me take it! Let Me endure it! I cannot stand another moment of their pain. I need to take their pain!" And He did.
Our pain is temporary. Thank God, it is temporary, even when it appears unrelenting. Even when we feel tied to our circumstances. Even when He asks us to endure and we don't know why.
I pray that whatever we encounter this year, whatever we are momentarily tied to, be it difficult or full of joy, we somehow are able to glimpse the heart of Jesus in the midst of it. That we might learn one more thing about Him; about His love for us. I know so little of a God so big. But His love...His love I know."
May you know His love, Krista, and His heart for you.