It came from as far out of left field as one can imagine. In fact, when Ronnie told me the diagnosis, I told him he was wrong. I told him several times he was wrong. Then I had a complete meltdown. The kind that results in laying down in the middle of the dining room floor and sobbing ugly, ugly tears.
I have never felt so helpless in my life. Never. When someone you love has cancer, you all carry the burden of cancer. It's a group experience with someone who is individually suffering. Strange.
I am a researcher by nature. When I started getting sick with what we now know is Dyautonomia, I researched everything. I am a seeker. I want to know. I want to understand. And I wanted to understand Ovarian Cancer.
The hardest part is that Ovarian Cancer doesn't want to be understood. It wants to confuse. It is straight from the devil. It tries to deceive us into believing it's bigger than God. In fact, the more we learn about Sarcoma Ovarian Cancer, the more evil it gets and the more it seems to mock it's victims and even the medical community.
Along with being a researcher by nature, I am also drawn to help. I want to actively do something to help get. us. through. this. I'm out of my comfort zone when I am helpless. I suppose we all are.
But in times like this, God is at his best. Psalm 34:18 reminds us that God is close to the brokenhearted and those crushed in spirit. It's when we are lying on the dining room floor, weeping until we are limp and dry that God is the close enough to touch.
There is a term in Celtic Christianity called "Thin Places". Thin places are described as physical places, experiences and moments in time when the veil between here and eternity is as thin as a piece of thin fabric. I love the term. I have felt many thin places in my lifetime and have also been blessed with some very thin moments and experiences. And even though we have learned about ourselves, our faith, our God, our friendship and the preciousness of life, I would have preferred to avoid this particular thin experience called "Angie's Cancer".
God is so willing to meet with us in our grief and confusion.Yet so many times we are so caught up in the emotion and chaos of trial that we forget to be still and listen. We have the "Cry out to Jesus" part down. It's stopping to listen to what He has to say that baffles us.
I have a text saved in my phone from my friend Terri. It came when I was having a day of melting down. We got bad news again and I was spinning quickly out of control. My text had said, "I DONT' KNOW WHAT TO DO!" Her text was simple and profound "I know...be still."
Prior to December 29, 2011, God had been pushing me along a path of prayer. He led me to particular experiences, people and places that called me to drop onto my knees and listen to Him, not talk at Him. I didn't understand why it was happening, but now I see He was preparing me to endure the heartache of watching my friend in the most incredible trial of her life. He wanted me to pray and listen like never before.
There are lots of books about being a cancer patient, being a caregiver for the patients, even being a parent to a cancer patient. But I have yet to find one specifically about of how to love a friend who has cancer through the journey. I need a book. Books help this researching side of my personality cope.
I have found many scriptures that have been the lifeline to which I've held onto as I have watched my friend suffer quietly. I've found old, time tested prayers that soothe the soul and calm the spirit in times of ultimate chaos. Our Lord promised that if we seek, we shall find. And as always, He has been faithful to do that, especially now.
I've been journaling my experience. I have a book floating around in my mind. I have many random thoughts that have helped me. Bizarre things we have done as friends to try and keep things as normal as possible, even when life is anything but normal.
I cannot begin to put words to Angie's experience, but I can put words to my own. It may never make it to a book. But at the very least, perhaps God will allow me to pray with someone like me, who feels completely helpless in the chaos of cancer.
Please keep praying for my friend.
No comments:
Post a Comment