Falling Down

Read today about Sheryl Crow getting cancer again, and Robin Roberts. 

I've said rather casually, "Well, I'll probably get cancer again, because of the kind of cancer I had." I think I thought if I was casual about it, it would make the whole notion seem less terrible. Reading about these two women today has kind of sobered me. Nothing about cancer is casual. If I really believe in five years I might have cancer again, how can I ever be casual about it? How can I not be very serious about this life God has given me to live?

Cancer demands so much attention, you see, and I am all ready so challenged by the demands on life as it is. The thought of cancer intruding once more into my world is not a very good thought. 

While I won't sit and wait for it to show up, I do need to be more mindful of what its return could mean. For certain, it won't be tied up in a pretty package with a bow.

The challenge I am facing, though, is not how to be a good cancer survivor, but how to become a survivor of these new diagnoses I have received for ailments that cannot be cured, and almost can't even be treated.

I am living in the presence of my enemies.

For about one month in the Spring, I felt better than I'd felt in years. One month. I feel guilty now, saying I don't feel so good---so I don't. If someone asks, I can easily recall how cancer felt, how anemia felt, how my gaping incision felt. And, I can honestly speak to how good it feels to not have a basketball of cancer in my body, and how glad I am to not be hemorrhaging every day, and how happy I am to have the energy to live. Oh, YES! That does feel good!

It's Philippians 4:8, you see?

In yesterday's mail I received another invitation to participate in a RA study, and I just wanted to run away. Another slap of reality. I don't want RA. I don't want RA. I don't want RA!

But, it won't go away. Nor will fibromyalgia. It's here to stay, until I go away. Until I am liberated from this earth. 

So, there has to be a way to do this. I can't get away from how these conditions feel, or how they make me feel, but I can meditate on something better. And, is there any end to what is better? I think not!

Life is one day at a time for me, but it is for you, too. Maybe, you haven't learned that, but it is true. We only have right now. We may not even have the whole day! I guess 9/11 is a good day to remember that, isn't it?

When we began this missionary life, the Lord began teaching us to live one day at time in terms of our provision. And, there have been countless days where all we had was enough for that one day. I'm not expert at this lifestyle, but more often than not, before I worry I remember. 

It's Philippians 4:8, again.

How many times has God met our needs? Oh, yes. That's right. Every time.

Now, I am learning to depend on that same faithfulness to get me through these new physical difficulties I face. With cancer, I knew it would end. It took so much longer than expected for my recovery, but each day I knew I was closer. 

No such assurance now, but still! Still there is God. Still there is hope. He gives strength. He gives courage. (And, sometimes, it takes a lot of courage.) 

One last thing. No one else knows how hard you're working just to not fall down, so give yourself a break when you trip. It's OK. God isn't judging how well you walk this walk of faith. He is, in fact, just waiting for you to fall on Him.