The Journal: A While in Denial

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Although a year ago Nate’s bad back was forcing him to deal with a boatload of trouble, the cancer diagnosis didn’t surface until the end of September. Symptoms of its secret presence were evident much earlier, but none of us knew its name.

When Nate began losing weight, which might have been a clue, we attributed it to his lessened appetite because of increased pain in his back. Then he began receiving compliments. “You look good! Losing weight?” Having put on quite a few middle-age-pounds in recent years, he enjoyed the accolades and decided to work at losing more, taking smaller portions and eliminating desserts.

When he continued to lose, we were both proud of him. I said, “You men are so lucky. One little dietary change and the pounds melt away.” How could something that looked so good be so insidious?

In August, when he began complaining of a stomach ache, which was probably his pancreas immediately next to the stomach, even his back doctor agreed it was probably the pain meds irritating him. The solution was to change his prescription.

When extreme exhaustion swamped him and he trudged up the stairs to collapse on the bed by 7:00 PM, he credited his age. “I think this is just what mid-sixties feels like,” he said.

When he developed a wisp of wheezing at the end of each breath, we labeled it “stress”. When he ran an occasional fever, he asked for ginger ale and said, “I should have gotten a flu shot.”

The mind is a complicated piece of equipment. One of its best tricks is to filter bad news through a screen of let’s-ponder-that-later. And both of our brains bought into every logical reason for dismissing cancer’s symptoms.

It’s not all bad that we spent a while in denial. When bad news comes crashing in, the brain has work to do and needs a buffer zone in which to do it. This week I learned via email of a good friend’s new cancer diagnosis. After my gasp in front of the computer screen and a spontaneous rush of sadness for him and his family, the only thing to do was pray. “Lord, give him the courage to accept the truth as soon as he can. Cause him to take advantage of every opportunity that presents itself with his family and others because of his cancer.”

Among all the  negatives that cancer is, it’s also something positive: a fistful of opportunities. I look back at Nate’s six weeks of coping with his cancer and marvel at how quickly he accepted his “fate” (tomorrow’s blog) and determined to finish well, even while undergoing intense emotional and physical upheaval. His actions and comments were calm, so much so they could only have been inspired by God, who supplied the know-how Nate needed.

For those who understand death is coming soon and who desire to honor the Lord through it, I believe God supernaturally supplies. And that stands true not just in cases of cancer but in all life-threatening circumstances. Being suspended in a period of denial might be more than just a place for the brain to do the work of adjusting. It might also be God’s place to ready people to accept their new harsh reality.

And once acceptance occurs, even while disease is killing, new opportunities are being born.

“Blessings shall come upon you and overtake you, if you obey the voice of the Lord your God.” (Deuteronomy 28:2)

The Journal: Working at Worry

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A year ago, as Nate’s back pain escalated but before we learned that his greater problem was deadly cancer, I was distraught with worry. During the night, questions overwhelmed me:

1.  Will the back surgery help?

2.  How long will the benefit last?

3.  Will he be able to keep working?

4.  How many surgeries will there be?

5.  And at the end of the surgeries, what will life be like for Nate?

6.  How much pain?

7.  Will he end up in a wheelchair?

8.  Should I go job-hunting?

9.  Will we have to move again?

Questions swirled like gathering clouds along Tornado Alley, ruining many a night’s sleep. When morning came, Nate would pursue the same routine he’d functioned in for 37 years, getting ready for work and climbing on a commuter train to get there. But what had been automatic gradually became a white-knuckle effort motivated only by his strong sense of duty. As we paced through the September days leading to the discovery of his cancer, Nate’s work days grew shorter, yet he remained resolute. “I’ve just got to work,” he said one morning when his pain was especially high. “It’s my job to provide.”

Deep down I believe he knew that if he quit, if he stepped away from the fast-paced working mentality of his Chicago routine, his pain would expand to fill the void. As much as he was looking forward to retirement, “going to work” was what he did best.

As for me, my spirits lifted when I knew he was able to work, because it meant his pain was manageable that day. It meant he could still fight the good fight. But what about my torment of worry during the wee-hours? What could be done about that?

Gradually both of us had made things worse, Nate by over-working his debilitated body and me by letting anxiety dominate. As Nate’s suffering had increased, we’d fallen for the lie that he and I were in charge, a ludicrous notion. The only thing I could think to do was to pray Scripture verses over our situation and over Nate. It would bring help to him and would remind me to “cast my cares on God.” (1 Peter 5:7)

I wrote the verses in my journal and prayed them through with pen and ink, hopeful God would intervene dramatically in Nate’s life and by that, in mine. Today, from the vantage point of one year later, I studied these same verses prayed a year ago in desperation and am utterly stricken by how God took the words literally and answered each prayer in a spectacular way.

From the journal:

“Cause Nate to wait on you, Lord. Renew his strength so he’ll be able to rise above the pain, to mount up with wings like an eagle. May he run in your strength rather than his own, escaping weariness, walking through this trial without fainting.” (Isaiah 40:31)

“May Nate quickly come to you, Lord, because he is laboring under heavy burdens. May he find the rest you’re offering.” (Matthew 11:28)

“Please protect Nate from all harm. Protect his soul from evil.” (Psalm 121:7)

“Please give Nate hope for a positive future, even a new beginning. Until then, give him courage.” (Psalm 31:24)

And according to these verses and many others, God did every bit of it with excellence….especially the part about Nate’s new beginning.

The Journal: His Plans or Mine?

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Toward the end of summertime a year ago, I had just finished unpacking after our move to Michigan that June. Because of Nate’s painful back, most of the shoving, rearranging and emptying of boxes had fallen to me, but we were both so pleased to be in our new peaceful setting with a smaller house that the work had been a joy.

By the end of that summer, we’d settled in and were looking toward Nate’s back surgery in September. He was working as much as his pain permitted, and I had an empty calendar, an enormous blessing after having been swamped with seven children and unnumbered volunteer commitments for the better part of our marriage.

That August (2009), my journal read: “The calendar squares of past years have had so much writing on them that some had to have flaps of paper taped on them because everything happening that day couldn’t be written tiny enough to fit on one square.”

In our new situation, I didn’t look at my calendar for days at a time, a true luxury. Life was becoming manageable: “Last week was the very last giant garbage pile in front of our cottage. This week we have only one big can and nothing standing next to it for the first time. So here I am, ready for a new phase of life.”

I had no inkling my “new phase” would be nursing a terminally ill husband, followed by getting used to life without him. At the end of that same entry I wrote a prayer: “I wait at your feet, Lord, for instructions, opportunities, your revealing of the path I’m to walk. Whatever it is, it’s all up to you. I want only to hear you clearly and make the choices that are within your will. Open my hearing to know for sure.”

I only had to wait a few days to “know for sure.” And there certainly was no ambiguity about “the path I was to walk.” But like countless other people thrown into crisis, every move we made, every decision weighed, every hour spent was with a desire to just get through it. There wasn’t time to think any more deeply than that.

But that’s the thing about following God’s lead. He’s done the thinking for us. He’s made the plans. He’s inspected the future. And according to what he’s seen there, he shows us the best way to go. We can either follow or go off on our own. It isn’t that we can’t think for ourselves or use the brain God gave us. It’s that the very best thinking we can ever do is incomplete and therefore not as good as God’s.

When my “new phase of life” arrived, it was something I never would have chosen. But God ordered my path, and so here I stand, gradually adjusting to being without Nate. It’s probably time for me to pray that same prayer again: “What’s next, Lord? What are your instructions? Your opportunities?”

The future looms, and God has already thought through my best options. Without doubt, he has important plans for me, and I intend to follow his lead.

“When you received the word of God… you accepted it not as the word of men, but as it actually is, the word of God, which is at work in you who believe.” (1 Thessalonians 2:13)