My kid came home today all fired up about something she heard at school. (She likes to ask the hard questions.) One of the adults in her life said, during a prayer, ‘God, I pray you ruin these kids lives so much so that they have to grow closer to you’ … Okay. So. I get what this person was going for. Sort of. But the counter-cultural me (even counter-cultural in some of my own faith circles) would challenge this person to possibly rephrase what they were saying.
Again. Words matter.
I’m sort of assuming I know what they were going for by offering these alternatives: ‘God, pursue each one of us, in both the good and the bad so that we can know your goodness in each.’ Or even ‘God, present us with opportunities to learn empathy, challenge us so we grow perseverance and a deep faith even when things get tough and show us your sovereignty through both the highs and the lows.’
Here’s my issue – we must be mindful of the God we present to others.
Early on in my diagnosis, I had a lot of well-meaning people praying for my utter and complete healing…literally that I would wake up and be cancer-free; that I wouldn’t need surgery, chemo, radiation…. And believe me, I put all my eggs in that basket because who wouldn’t? I wanted that miracle like I wanted nothing else in my life. But when I didn’t get that, I spiraled. Why not me, God? You’re all-powerful, but you didn’t choose me for the miracle. Did I do something wrong? Did I cause my own cancer, so much so that even You wouldn’t save me from it? How terrible of a person am I that I didn’t even measure up? And when the news around every corner just kept getting worse…I felt further and further away from God, the shame unbearable—I was so far gone that I couldn’t even get a breadcrumb of miracle. Or even some good news. (And to think – I actually have a very mature and strong faith…what damage would this do to someone new to believing in God?!)
Now, don’t hear what I’m not saying – I’m not saying we don’t pray for the miracle. But instead of qualifying the miracle for someone, instead of quantifying it’s parameters, instead of putting God in an either-or box, maybe just pray that God would show up, no matter how the story goes. Pray that hope is infused in each next step. Pray that redemption would occur through God’s creativity. Pray that God’s goodness can be understood in pain and in peace. Pray that perseverance and empathy and fortitude and grit would grow no matter the elements of the story. Pray that struggle is valuable and transformative, as is contentment. And you can even pray for miracles….just don’t name them. Let God do that.
So, back to my story about Anabelle’s day. The God that was presented by this person’s prayer is a God that is confusing. Someone who ruins us isn’t for us so why would that be a quality we seek?! Oversimplified or not. . . . .God doesn’t ruin us to reach us. Let’s present a God Who’s omniscience, omnipresence and omnipotence is lovely. Is attractive. Is grace-filled. Is consistent even when we are not. Is not based on our human condition and continuum of wellness (physical or spiritual). Is not boxed in by either-or’s and by parameters limited by human short-sightedness.
Yes. Words.Profoundly.Matter.
*Post 978
Thankful :: 12/4/17 :: Post 98
Tonight I am thankful. Thankful for my husband. And daughters. Thankful for my Mom and Dad. Thankful for a home to come home to with people that are happy to see me and me, them. Thankful for amazing families. And for how much they love us. Thankful for a job that I love with people that I love. Thankful for Christmas Carols. Thankful for a resilient body…even though it is beyond exhausted. Thankful for hope. Thankful for divine intervention. Thankful for faith and a big God. Thankful for a fun purple wig. Thankful for friends who walk with me in this hard chapter. Thankful I was given a prognosis that it won’t always look or be like this. Thankful for TUMS when the heartburn is awful. Thankful for research and modern medicine to help make me better. Thankful for sleep.
Words :: 12/4/18 :: Post 450
I’m trying to find words for how I feel… Am I
Pensive?
Content?
Blah?
Jaded?
Feeling-less?
Settled?
Calm?
Confidently secure?
Un-ruffled?
Bitter?
Closed-off?
Annoyed?
Hopeful?
Reflective?
Fearful?
Stuck?
Or so oppositely un-stuck?
Do I care too much so I’m heavy hearted? Or do I care so very little that I’m blank? What a strange place I find myself in….And I have a feeling it’s every single one of those words.
Living Changed Head to Toe Day 4 :: 12/4/19 :: Post 813
I am so grateful that my mother in law encouraged me to write back when I was first diagnosed. Originally, I was not planning on it and never really got much out of journaling prior to cancer. It wasn’t something I enjoyed or wanted to spend any of my time doing. But, being that my mother in law was my 7th grade teacher and I grew up knowing her and the whole family, she knew something about me and called it out. I resisted. And then I gave in. And here we are…210,732 words later.
The words and sentences and paragraphs are formed in my head from what my soul and heart and body feel. They describe my experiences and my struggles and my joys and my sorrows. They share my vulnerabilities and my hopes, my devastation and my fortitude.
Living changed from head to toe, Day 4 – my head and my mind. I have spent countless hours processing what cancer is…cataloging the ups and the downs…capturing the essence of the experience. The habit of stringing words together has become essential to my existence. Some days the words flow easily, others not so much. Some days the words are accompanied by tears, others by fears and some others by joy. Some days the words are many while other days, there are only a few. I’m not sure if I will ever stop writing on a daily basis…or maybe I’ll get to a point where I do. But I know that having this experience in my life has shown me the value in taking the time to sit IN it. To allow it to change me and transform me. To process and think and connect with it all, even when it hurts like hell. And I’m grateful I listened, Marilyn. Thank you.