Books. My friends. My overtakers.
As much as I love technology, I can't seem to get into the digital book thing. It must be a tactile disorder. I love the feel of the page.
One thing I have acquired lately is devotional books. LOTS of devotional books. So many devotional books that it will take me YEARS to get through them if I use them as directed - one page per day. I guess this could be a good thing.
I'm trying to take them one at a time and read straight through. It is a lot to absorb though. I mean, how much can God speak to you in one day. How often does He get tired? Ok, He never gets tired.
One book leads me to the next and somewhere in the literary chaos (ha ha!) I ran across a book that I read back in 1996 when I had that original tough battle with cancer. It was a non-Christian book, but I inserted Christian principles as I read along and it was quite fascinating and it actually has stuck with me through the years.
For some reason, today I looked back. This is something I don't often do, unless it is incredibly good memories. Sometimes things trigger a flashback and I will go there unless it leads to a woulda, shoulda, coulda kind of event. Those events - the things where you can't change the outcome. Done is done, for the good, or the bad of it.
The flashback took me to a doctor's office in 1996 - I had popped in right after a school meeting where we were preparing for classes to begin again. It was with a surgeon and he was going to talk to me about a certain lump. He had X-rays in his hand. Old school. The film that you could actually see in that light box on the wall. And on that day I was introduced to a thing called cancer and what it looked like on film.
They say you should never go to a doctor's office alone. I always thought that was silly. I clearly still don't follow that advice because I did it again in January 2015.
I remember leaving the office that day wondering a few things.
* Will I see my children grow up?
* How do I tell my family?
* What is this journey going to be like. Everyone I ever knew with cancer had died shortly thereafter.
* How would I navigate this thing? Was my faith strong enough, was I brave enough?
* Does my life count for anything and will anyone miss me, ever?
The randomness of our thoughts, right?
Yet, God, in all of His goodness led me, not directly home, but to the book store. It was probably Long's Bible and Book Store - today we call them Family Bible or Lifeway. I can still see myself in the health aisle and just looking at books that I had never seen before. And devotionals about health - lots of devotionals. I don't remember what I bought, but I do remember this sense of peace that God had this thing under control and that I just needed to trust.
I knew it would be a tough one, but it is one of the few times in life where I do look back at things that were pretty awful because I can see such beauty that came of it. Not beauty in the things that happened as much as beauty in the way He changed me. I guess that is what 'refined in the fire' means.
Surely, during my life there have been hurts - both on my part toward others and on the part of others toward me - but I don't recall or dwell on them. Some are just not fixable. Most are not healthy to re-visit anyway. Most are forgotten by others at best.
You get a lot of little 'morsels' - food for thought - in these devotional books. Most of them have short little messages....oh, so unlike my thoughts. I often wish I could be concise!
My little doc visit from 1996 came to mind when I sat in that office in January 2015 though. When my doctor used that word "Malignant" - metastatic - well, I knew what that meant.
But this time I was not fearful. I knew that for whatever reason he was telling me this, God already knew it and He already had a plan. My questions were different this time as I sat quietly thinking - with the Doctor likely wondering why, when all alone, I was not dissolving in tears.
My questions were more like
* What are you going to show me through this, Lord?
* How will I tell my family - this affects them too.
* Will you please help me to walk this walk with a focus on you so that others can see you through all of this and desire an eternity with you more than they desire anything on earth?
* Will you allow me to know that those I love will be with you in eternity as well?
and of course that selfish question that is always in there - Will you let me go to Europe with these precious kids, or will you at least firmly close the door so that I don't do something I am not supposed to do? (The trip departure was in 42 hours after the diagnosis was revealed.)
Roger's Lesson: Change is hard but sometimes change is good. Becoming less stressed did not hurt you any at all. Keep enjoying the earthly journey, fight hard, but remember that eternity is pretty great! Keep looking forward!
And I will. I will embrace this unexpected change in my life journey.
I will adapt. I will simplify. I will embrace sweet memories and turn my head away from anything that leads to emotional pain. It saps my energy and gives satan an opening. I will not allow it.
As I have embraced this past year of loss - I have also learned that sweet memories are the ones I chose to record for my children and grandchildren. They are the ones that brought great happiness even in the midst of tears. They are the ones that made this earthly journey so sweet. They are the reason I call myself blessed.
I'm not sure where God is leading me this year, but I am determined that it will be sweet - encouraging - memorable in the best of ways.
I am believing that the things He showed me in the last year, and that He prompted me to record, are also the things that will continue to strengthen my faith and help me to say at the end of each day that no matter how little I think I did - that I did a lot if I spend time with Him.
I guess when it comes right down to it - spending time with Him is the most important thing and the thing that matters the most.
Earthly walk - I do love you. And I hope to walk a lot longer - well, with wheels or without - but in faith for that is how you see the Hand of God in all of it.
Forward - March!
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