Grateful

I'm propped up the couch. I've been here all day. Well, I got up for lunch, but that's about it. Is this a holiday?

On January 4th, my doctor called and told me I needed surgery, and that it might be cancer. That does something to you. As medical things go, it took 6 weeks before I actually had that surgery, last Monday. Six weeks is a long time to sit around and think about whether or not you have cancer.

I thought about the several times in my life that the worst case scenario turned out to be reality. When seemingly mild symptoms were a big deal. And how this precedent set me up to fear. And I thought about how, if I'd been born 200 years ago, I probably would have died... about 4 times by now. And that if he numbered my days before there was one of them, then it has already all been decided and I can rest in His goodness. And why is that so hard to do?

I thought a lot about Hannah, and the stupid things that people said to us. And the stupid promises that people claimed for us, which was really about managing their own anxiety, and not about comforting the weary. I thought about how we simply do NOT know what the evidence means. We look at the circumstances and say "God is going to do this, or that..." and really, we have no idea what He is doing. We think "successful surgery" = God's care... I thought about how God's love is not measured in the outcome of Hannah's life, or the outcome of my surgery. And how "God's good plan" + "death of my daughter" still sometimes feels like "You are just not very safe." I thought about how the heart that is won over to trust Him and to delight in His presence in the midst of the battle, where the outcome is not certain... well, that is a person truly at rest. And I thought about the reality that when Satan tempts us to doubt God's care, he always gives us really 'good' reasons that come from our story.

I thought about playfulness. And how sometimes life seems so damn serious. And how sympathetic glances and intense well wishes have their place, but so does laughter and lightheartness and play... because these are about joy, and beauty, and believing that someone else is in charge (not me), and about kicking Satan in the teeth.

I thought about fighting. How this imagery of battle is all throughout the biblical storyline, and yet, we don't usually think of life in terms of the battle that it is. It seems to me that most people go one of two directions--

1) Check out. Nothing is a big deal. I'm never upset about anything. Dissociate. Disconnect. Feel nothing. No need for grace, no need for the gospel, no need for God.

2) Freak out. I'm so anxious that I can't deal. I keep myself super busy with tasks, with cleaning, with facebook or internet or ____ because I can't sit still. I can't rest. It's all too overwhelming. Deep down, we all know that God won't take care of this, so I have to do it on my own.

But to do neither of these things, neither check out, nor freak out, but to fight...to keep your heart in the battle, to have a heart that is really engaged, to have a healthy emotional life that is bringing all of myself before Him to provide the resources only He can give... well that's just extremely rare... to live, to stay, to hang out in the spaciousness of that place.

So today, 10 days after surgery, I'm grateful. Albeit sore and tired of laying down, but grateful. For the unexpected curriculum of the semester which can't be learned from textbooks or lectures...

Grateful that all preliminary lab reports show no cancer.

Grateful for my parents, who for the last 9 days have served Jim, the girls, and me hand and foot and beyond just what we needed.

Grateful for lots of support, from my hubby, from our church, community group, from my profs...

Grateful for my supervision group, who demonstrate what I shared above, that sometimes the most serious moments need bust-your-gut laughter, and not pitying stares and intense words.

Grateful for my supervisor, who knew that talking about clients was not what I needed that week, even if I wanted to come 'business as usual' and stay busy and dissociate, but loved me well and helped me prepare my heart for surgery and recovery.

Grateful for the freedom to take the time that I need to recover.

Grateful that He is caring for me, regardless of the outcome, whether I see it or not.

...and yet, grateful that during this season, there have been moments that my eyes have been wide open to see it, embrace it, rest and rejoice in it.