Real Life

It was a two and a half hour trip, long and boring usually. But that day I appreciated the long drive as I used the time to pray when my mind wasn’t playing “what if.” I had no idea how changed my life would be before the return trip later that day.
The clouds hung low and dark, threatening rain. If I had believed in omens, it would have been an indication for me of things to come later.

After arriving at my destination and waiting for short time, I was directed to a small room to wait some more. Then, a brief knock and he entered the room. He was a large man with a neatly trimmed beard and hair. He pulled over a cold looking metal stool and then sat facing me. He reminded me of someone I couldn’t place at the moment. It’s strange, the bizarre thoughts that run through your head at the most crucial times. It was one of those moments when you are holding your breath thinking the worst but believe it’s really going to be nothing and everything will remain normal and you’ll let out a big sigh.

Without any flicker of emotion he simply said, “I’m sorry, the biopsy was malignant. You have cancer.” He sat motionless waiting for my response. I acknowledged his matter of fact information with a short nod. Outwardly, I appeared as calm as he did. Inwardly, I was just getting up from being slammed against the wall.

“Don’t cry. Not here, not now! Just listen.” I ordered my mind. He continued on with pertinent information as I struggled within to keep from drowning in an emotional overload. “Don’t cr..” Too late. The tears I had struggled to hold back were now coursing down my cheeks, though quietly.

And there he sat, continuing with endless, though important, information, calmly watching me with detached emotion. He stood to go, shook my hand and left me to wipe my tears on the way out. Not a pat on the shoulder, not even an encouraging word from him. All I could think was how much I disliked him watching me cry.

Blinking several times to clear my eyes, I was finally able to write the check for services rendered. How sadistic it seemed to pay someone to inflict you with such painful news.

Unmindful of the rain, I got into my car with new orders; “Just wait. Keep it together.”
I headed for the interstate repeating those orders like a mantra.

Finally, somewhere on a lonely stretch of interstate, halfway home, I couldn’t hold on any longer. The fears, the uncertainties, the anger erupted into deep, dark sobs. My heaving chest felt as if it were being ripped apart with each sob. Then the anger came, quick and fierce. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Why? Why did this happen God? Why?

Suddenly I felt the screams pushing their way out of my mouth releasing some of the anger. I screamed and I screamed again. “I don’t want this. Take it away. God, where are you?” More anger, more screams. To the other drivers, I was nothing out of the ordinary, staying in my lane, going the right direction. Inside my car I was a total contradiction of the normalcy perceived by passing cars.

The rest of the drive home became a battle ground for my mind as I fluctuated between prayer and the unknown. Doubts kept clawing their way to the surface of my mind like a drowning person desperate for air. “Pray, don’t think. Just pray. Remember His Word. Speak His Word, now! Oh, God, give me a verse. I can’t think! ‘I will never leave thee nor forsake thee.’” Over and over I repeated it. I finally arrived home, exhausted, but calmer, anxious for the support from my husband. That’s all that mattered for now. Tomorrow would be here soon enough. Tomorrow would be different. Tomorrow would be the beginning of a different way of life. Life?

When you have been given news that could mean possible death, you start to think differently in terms of real life. Right away you think of the years you’ve wasted and wonder how many you have left. You learn to cherish what is important and give extra emphasis to that importance. You learn to be thankful for the years you’ve had. You treasure your salvation. You start thinking in terms of eternity. You pray more. You realize how precious life is and pray more for the safe arrival of loved ones. You become more thankful. You love more, you love deeper. You tell others you love them more often. You lean more on God’s Word. You change more and are more willing to change. And in time you realize that sometimes the greatest blessings come wrapped in pain, but God is there with you and God is sufficient.

Sniff My husband's going to start thinking I've got alergies. I love the honesty you put into your story. It helps others to know that it's okay to fall apart sometimes, and it's even okay to fall apart. As a matter of fact, it's even necessary sometimes. It also emphasizes that fact that the "Lord is our strength." Very nice work. I'd love to hear about how you went through that journey. I didn't want to stop reading.

Quote :

And in time you realize that sometimes the greatest blessings come wrapped in pain, but God is there with you and God is sufficient.

You will comfort many with the comfort you have been given

The rest of the story MUST be told!!

Thanks, Lora. You are always so encouraging. Thank you too, Moni. I certainly hope my experience will be a comfort to others.
God has been very good to me--as if He wouldn't be--so I will get my thoughts together and let you all know just how good He has been.