...I can see all obstacles in my way.
I think I can make it now, the pain is gone
All of the bad feelings have disappeared
Here is the rainbow I’ve been prayin' for
It’s gonna be a bright, bright
Sun-Shiny day.
~ Jimmy Cliff
The sun dawned mildly today, as the iciness of January's deep freeze gave way to the balm of warm winds and snow melting soft underfoot. A picture in seasonal clarity of the week I've had. As the news sunk in, and I allowed optimism to absorb deep into my soul, something inside rises dark and desolate and full of fear. The edge is taken off of cancer, death runs quickly into the shadows as my new doctor speaks healing and remission and freedom. With that new-found hope, the fears step out of the shadows, finally, to be processed and identified. To be named and no longer ignored. Those fears have been the white elephant in my room for months. Now they are safe to acknowledge.
So what is a 29-year-old Christian woman with cancer afraid of? Just like the rest of humanity, I am afraid of death. I am afraid I will be afraid. I am afraid of being in an unfamiliar place. I am afraid of falling through a black hole of the universe without a guide to tell me what to expect. I am afraid of the seconds that intervene between my last breath here and my first breath there. I am afraid that it can't be heaven without my husband and children, and parents, brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles, grandparents, friends. How can I love a place where there is hardly a face I recognize? How can I navigate a crossing that I know nothing about?
Really, it all boils down to faith. Here is that great question of the ages rearing it's ugly head again: do I trust God, the maker and ruler of all, or not? He didn't give me all the answers - not even whether this good news will hold or dissipate like the snow on my front lawn, melted before the strength of a weak January thaw. He doesn't tell me how it will feel to die, much less how it will feel to live eternally in heaven.
The fears persist. They have been there, in the corners of my mind, since I was a small child. And today, like so many days gone before, I put them aside on my shelf of faith, issues for God to take care of. I put aside my inability to understand the intricate details. I close my eyes. I wrestle my shoulders out of their hunch, shake loose the bands of tension. I sigh, I breathe in deep, and face the warm January sun, and leave the details to Christ.
"I shall not be afraid of evil tidings; my heart is firmly fixed, trusting (leaning on and being confident) in the Lord. My heart is established and steady, I will not be afraid while I wait to see my desire established upon my adversary." (Psalm 112:7-8 Amplified - paraphrased)
Showing posts with label optimism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label optimism. Show all posts
Realism
"We have done and left undone. We are foolish and weak and blind and self-willed and men of little faith. But all the time [the Church] stands there, holding the cross, telling us that there is forgiveness, that we have not been left to ourselves, that no matter how shocking the image that we finally see of ourselves in the light of God's truth, God himself has done something about it all."
~ Elisabeth Elliot, All That Was Ever Ours
Cancer is reaching into every corner of my life and changing me forever. Oddly enough, it seems to be a positive experience so far. Self-reflection is a two-edged sword: to some it is a lost art; to others a pit in which to wallow continuously. Like everything else, I have to add a healthy dose of moderation when I find myself in a reflective mood. I tend toward the pessimistic end of the spectrum, and the bad and evil and discontent and horrible is what jumps out when I look too closely in the mirror. Others, I know, tend toward the optimistic end, ignoring ugliness and evil and reflecting only on what is positive and good. If you are going to look carefully at yourself, remember you are called to action, not just repentance. Ah, there is the sting! Life would be so much easier, wouldn't it, if the fullness of our calling is to simply say "sorry"?!!
I had a long talk about this subject with the girls yesterday, after I was angry and ugly during a difficult departure from home. It took nearly an hour to get everyone in mittens, hats, coats, and boots, and I found myself at my wit's end by the time we got out the door! After talking to my Father God about it, going in tears before His throne to beg forgiveness and aid, I apologized to my kids and we talked at length about perfection, imperfection, redemption, forgiveness. They wanted to know, can you be a mean person and go to heaven? Can you be a nice person and go to hell? What does it mean to repent?
Repentance can't come without a good, long look in the mirror first. If I persist in a false idea about how good I am, I may not realize my need for God's redemptive love. If I choose, instead, to wallow in guilt over my ugliness and badness, I won't recognize the overwhelming power of the work done on the Cross. As always, I am trying to walk the tightrope in the middle, the narrow pathway under my faltering feet as I look upward, to my Savior.
Jesus answered them, "It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick. I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance." Luke 5:31-32
I tell you that in the same way there will be more rejoicing in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who do not need to repent. Luke 15:7
~ Elisabeth Elliot, All That Was Ever Ours
Cancer is reaching into every corner of my life and changing me forever. Oddly enough, it seems to be a positive experience so far. Self-reflection is a two-edged sword: to some it is a lost art; to others a pit in which to wallow continuously. Like everything else, I have to add a healthy dose of moderation when I find myself in a reflective mood. I tend toward the pessimistic end of the spectrum, and the bad and evil and discontent and horrible is what jumps out when I look too closely in the mirror. Others, I know, tend toward the optimistic end, ignoring ugliness and evil and reflecting only on what is positive and good. If you are going to look carefully at yourself, remember you are called to action, not just repentance. Ah, there is the sting! Life would be so much easier, wouldn't it, if the fullness of our calling is to simply say "sorry"?!!
I had a long talk about this subject with the girls yesterday, after I was angry and ugly during a difficult departure from home. It took nearly an hour to get everyone in mittens, hats, coats, and boots, and I found myself at my wit's end by the time we got out the door! After talking to my Father God about it, going in tears before His throne to beg forgiveness and aid, I apologized to my kids and we talked at length about perfection, imperfection, redemption, forgiveness. They wanted to know, can you be a mean person and go to heaven? Can you be a nice person and go to hell? What does it mean to repent?
Repentance can't come without a good, long look in the mirror first. If I persist in a false idea about how good I am, I may not realize my need for God's redemptive love. If I choose, instead, to wallow in guilt over my ugliness and badness, I won't recognize the overwhelming power of the work done on the Cross. As always, I am trying to walk the tightrope in the middle, the narrow pathway under my faltering feet as I look upward, to my Savior.
Jesus answered them, "It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick. I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance." Luke 5:31-32
I tell you that in the same way there will be more rejoicing in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who do not need to repent. Luke 15:7