Rocks and Sunrises

Sandy visited the nice employees at Wesley's ER again on Thursday morning. Some IV pain medication relieved her intense abdominal pressure, and she returned home. At an appointment with a Wichita oncologist Friday morning, she learned that the pressure is a result of the tumors, and will likely return from time to time. Now that she knows the cause, she can take medicine at the onset of symptoms. Her incision is healing nicely; it is much less warm, less red, and less swollen. She is somewhat surprised by her lack of stamina, though we keep reminding her that her body has been through quite an ordeal these past few months, not to mention the emotional roller coaster that doesn't seem to have an exit. Appointments next week in Kansas City are still on the calendar; Sandy is eager to have a plan in place.

It sure feels like this all came out of the blue, out of nowhere. But it's like driving on a winding mountain road, going around a string of bends, and suddenly seeing a huge rock in the middle of the road. The rock had been there for some time, but it was only now that you saw it. Even if the rock just now tumbled down from the top of the mountain, onto your stretch of road, it wasn't out of nowhere - the rock had been part of the overall scene long before you took notice of it. Or it's like walking through an unfamiliar house at night, turning on one light at a time as you enter each room. The furniture in each room was there when you first entered the house, but it was not until the light came on that you saw it. This cancer diagnosis has been part of Sandy's life story since God wrote her story many years ago. It is only now that the time has come to walk this section of the journey. We can walk it in despair, or we can walk it in confidence, trusting the author. We are promised a good ending…and we are promised God will gently encourage us if our definition of "good" needs some adjusting!

We often say we wish we knew what was going to happen in the future, or we wish we knew for what purpose something was happening - what is the bigger picture? But do we really want to know? I think what we're actually saying is that we want to know the good things that will happen, the things that bring peace and joy and happiness, the things that make the world seem right again. However, in March, if we had known that Sandy would be diagnosed with cancer in September, would it not have been exceedingly difficult to enjoy these past few months? Wouldn't we have begun a mourning process, not knowing what would follow the diagnosis? We would have lost out on many great memories, or at best, experienced them with bittersweet emotions. Similarly, while in some ways we'd like to know what the future holds from this point on, how would it help? If it is not what we want, we'd be sad or angry (or both) starting now! If it IS what we want, we might wonder why any further pain is needed when healing is the outcome - not to mention we would have much less reason to lean into God and His promises.

I know what will happen in the future. Are you ready for this? :)  Sandy will continue choosing joy, holding tightly to hope, sharing her contagious optimism with others, and living her life to glorify God.

We can focus on the rock in the middle of the road, or we can look around and notice the beautiful scenery. We can continue driving around the twisting roads in fear of the next big rock, or we can drive in anticipation of the next amazing sunrise. The journey is not in our control, but how we experience the journey is up to us.

By the way, I vote for the sunrise.