I had a plan to write about something significant this evening. But in the spirit of “being present,” my theme(-ish) of June, I’m gonna wait to write about that on an evening I feel better ‘cuz tonight, I just can’t. So…switching it up to a very simple suggestion:

When someone who is grieving corrects you, don’t give them “the look.”

First – Grieving comes in many forms and people grieve over many things. 
Second – Sometimes, you’ll respond to their grief by saying something that may feel right or encouraging or hopeful. That’s wonderful! Please do encourage and offer hope!
Third – But sometimes the person who is grieving may need to correct your statement because it kind of missed the mark. That’s OK! They are allowed to help you understand!
Fourth and Fifth – Please don’t silently disagree with them. The look on your face communicates that because it’s hard to hide how you feel.

Real-life example:

Person: “Wow. Cancer! You’re all good now though!” 
(As they scan me for external evidence of cancer and seeing nothing obvious, feel confident in saying that.)

Me: “I’m currently considered ‘no evidence of disease.’” 
(Said with a slight smile acknowledging the gratitude of NED while now holding a dreadfully heavy burden of knowledge.)

Person: “I bet you’re so glad to be all better.”

Me: “I do have a lot to be grateful for but unfortunately, ‘all-better’ or ‘back to normal’ or ‘100%’ isn’t ever possible for me now…”

Person: “Oh. But you are still here, right!? How great is that!?”
(Thrown off by my clarification and now looking confused as to why I didn’t simply agree with them.)

That look of confusion, of judgement, of disagreement…that’s “the look.” Please try to avoid that because it’s just so hard to see it.

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Kipling :: June 7, 2018

I was at dinner tonight with a dear friend and we talked about just about everything. I so enjoy her perspective on life. I love hearing her experiences. I respect her authenticity. I appreciate her willingness to hear my ‘hard’ in the midst of her own. We were talking about faith in the midst of the ‘hard’…what it means to keep hope while experiencing difficult things, what it means to still hold the desires of our hearts while practicing faith in the uncontrollables, what it means to believe in a good God when nothing in the ‘hard’ feels even remotely good… 

I was sharing with her an experience I had a couple of years ago…and as I was saying it out loud (for the very first time), I was realizing just how wild the story goes…

A typical practice of mine is that when I drive, I pray. It’s my quiet time… and back when I was in a different position at work, I did A LOT of driving. I remember driving along Kipling. And I was praying in the way I was taught back in Sunday School – ACTS – Adoration, Confession, Thanksgiving and Supplication. After having done some A and C, I was praying Thanksgiving of everything I could think of and really, I have an incredible life. I was thanking God for my husband and our strong relationship, our healthy, happy daughters, my amazing job… the list was long. And then I reflected that all of the things I was thankful for were all really easy to be thankful for. So I then thought to myself, what if things get really hard…like what if I had to hear the word ‘cancer’? Would I still be grateful? Would I still remain faithful? Would it still be this easy to show God gratitude? 

Yeah. I know, right?

Interesting that my hypothetical ‘hard’ was cancer. Interesting that out of all of the things that I could enter into that blank, cancer was the first to come to mind. I remember thinking at that time that a ‘cancer diagnosis’ would be catastrophic, that ‘chemo’ would be life-shattering.

Mmmhmmmm. I know. Crazy.

I’d also like to add that while we have battled cancer, there was a massive car accident, a past trauma revisited, a difficult school year for each of my girls for numerous reasons, a total meltdown by a teenager (that was long overdue), the regular day to day, the continuing to ask for help, the strain on relationships, and now a massive void under our house because a drain pipe dislodged years ago that now requires a structural-engineer-to-help-figure-out-a-who-knows-how-much-to-fix repair…. Yup. That’s all happening, too. 

So, a couple of nights ago, it was 3:30, or something insane like that, in the morning. I was repositioning my body, as I have to do every half hour due to pain, and was having a tough time getting back to sleep. As I laid there in the quiet, the two words that came to my mind and out of my mouth were “Thank You”… Really? Like….for real? “Thank You?” I was in extreme pain and I haven’t slept well in months and I’ve been devastated by chemo and radiation and surgery and I have another one coming up and I’ve had a car accident and an emotional trauma and I still have to parent and work and be a wife and now we have huge expensive house drama and yet all I could think of was THANK YOU?! And then, in that moment, I closed my eyes and vividly remembered exactly where I was on Kipling… Kipling and Jewell. Remembering: …What if, God. What if… 

So, as I sit here tonight, writing this, I am not quite sure how I feel. I’ve expressed gratitude before in this but tonight it’s different. Am I amazed? Am I baffled? Am I fascinated? Am I sad? Am I angry? Am I relieved? Am I …dare I say… thankful?

Throughout this cancer experience? journey? storm? chapter? season? (I still kind of don’t know what to call it) I have often thought of that drive along Kipling and that ‘what if’ conversation with God……And by God’s grace, I am being given the opportunity to understand the depth of gratitude in the midst of my ‘hard’…in the midst of that very ‘what if’

Wild.

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No posts for 6/7/19 or 6/7/20

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