It is hard to believe that it has been seven years since I
was first diagnosed with cancer and started writing this blog to keep people
updated. It started as a simple way to share my medical updates with all those
who were asking, and morphed into this raw emotional journey of faith and doubt
and fear and anxiety and yes, even joy. As people resonated with my thoughts
and raw emotions, it has become so much more. I am grateful that many of you
have shared my blog with people who are diagnosed with cancer or another
illness, or with people who are struggling with belief or faith. I am a person
who would absolutely LOVE that everything could be resolved and tied up into a
neat tidy bow and I could move on to the next thing. But that simply isn’t
life. Life is messy and broken and there is no finish line this side of
eternity. Most of us are doing the best we can with the life situation we have
been given. My hope is that my laments and my joys and my questions and my fears—all
as a woman of faith—would encourage those who feel they are alone in their
thoughts. I know we all don’t think the same (thank God), but we all have hurts
and trials and issues that we face daily. We respond in various ways to what we
have been given. It is hard. Those who profess and believe in Jesus Christ are
certainly not immune to the brokenness and pain of the world. Bad things
happen. To all of us.
As I write this, the world is in communal mourning for the
great legend Kobe Bryant and the others who perished in the helicopter crash. At
the same time, in my circle of friends, one of my dear spiritual mentors has
come home and is on hospice for the time he has left on earth. My heart is
heavy. Another dear one—a beautiful 22 year old—has been in chemo for leukemia
and is currently awaiting a bone marrow replacement (a match was found, thank
God). Other friends are awaiting appointments and results for their cancer
updates. Others are caring for elderly parents or burying their fathers and
mothers. I have many friends dealing with relationship and family issues that
are painful and trying. I could go on and on. This. This my friends is life. It
is what we deal with. It is not neat and tidy and resolved. It is ever changing.
We all have or will experience one of those “suddenly” or “holy why?” moments
when our world is shaken by a phone call, or knock on the door, or email or unexpected
news.
A quick update on my health journey. As I wrote in my last
blog post in December, I finished chemotherapy at the end of November. This was
after spending the entire year of 2019 on radiation or chemo. As I began to
feel better and stronger and the side effects began to wear off slightly, I became
a “production maniac”. Because I finally
felt well, I was doing, working, planning, socializing—and I didn’t realize
until later that it was way too much, way too early. I knew I wasn’t cancer
free; I knew my doctor told me I would be chasing cancer, but he was hopeful
that we could monitor and treat for as long as we could.
When 2020 started, a number of things happened in quick
succession and I hit an emotional, physical and spiritual wall.
*I received a call that the biopsy I had in December on some
spots on my forehead were positive for basal cell skin cancer. Slow growing,
treatable, but yet another procedure.
*The people at my insurance company who have been supposed
to be working on my behalf—did not follow through, and I came back to making
numerous phone calls (full time job), talking to a bunch of different people
who told me different things. This was also a financial burden that I needed to
address.
*My kidney was still inflamed and I needed another procedure
to replace the stent in my ureter. The first procedure did not go well and I
left without a stent, having to get an ultrasound and then get booked into the
OR for another attempt at replacing the stent.
*I had appointments with my primary care and oncologist and
discovered through blood panels that my hormones are completely depleted (chemo
does that). Everyone who knows about the human body, knows that hormones affect
so much—our mood, our energy, our sleep, our brain chemistry.
I share all these things (and there is more) knowing full
well that I am grateful to even have insurance and health care. I know that
many people do not have these opportunities.
My health team is working on treatments for all these health
issues and I have some friends who know the insurance industry who are taking
over on my behalf (thanks Lisa, Michelle and Neal).
But here is the thing. All these things as well as more got
me so overwhelmed that I could barely function. As much as I tried to be
grateful, upbeat, prayerful, and tackle each situation-- I felt consumed and despondent. I
couldn’t sleep at night and I couldn’t get up in the morning. I would force
myself to get up and attempt to get ONE thing done in a day. I had at least
three days in the month of January where I slept all day—never got up. I was
throwing up, nauseated, achy, and my mind never shut down. My thoughts spiraled.
I tried to get away to rest and pray and think and journal. This was a sweet
time for me, but reality was waiting. I still had to address all the things in
front of me. My friends would call and text and I shut them out. I would
respond to the messages, but I didn’t want to see people. I forced myself to
walk my dogs in the afternoons because the outdoors always makes me happy. I
haven’t cooked a meal in a month. I have barely eaten. My husband makes cereal
and bagel sandwiches for his dinner. My rational mind knew that I was in a deep
depression. I cried out to God and prayed and read the Bible and much of the time,
I still felt hopeless. I have cried more this month than I have in years.
This is not resolved and I am not going to sugar coat it and
put a bow on it and say that everything is going to get better. In fact, there were a few days in this when I
felt absolutely like there was no hope, no joy, no purpose. I felt unworthy to
be a church leader, a speaker, a writer, an encourager. I felt like I was a
fake, a sham, like I had no reason to write about faith and joy and hope. I
felt I was a disservice to God.
But I allowed myself to be in this space, as hard as it was.
I talked to a few friends, I went to my therapist, I talked to my doctors.
Slowly, but surely, these issues will be tackled (and then more things will
come up—such is life). And as I continued to read my Bible and focus on God’s
promises (in spite of how I felt), I realized that I was succumbing to a bunch
of LIES. Spiritual lies, worldly lies, fleshly lies. I was forgetting what the
God of the universe says to me. He says YOU ARE CHOSEN. YOU ARE LOVED. YOU DO
NOT HAVE TO EARN MY AFFECTION. MY GRACE POURS OVER YOU. YOU DO NOT HAVE TO
STRIVE. IT IS FINISHED. I SEE YOU THROUGH THE PERFECT BLOOD OF JESUS CHRIST ON
THE CROSS.
I know all these things. I have taught and spoken on all
these promises. I know in my head what I believe. I wasn’t allowing it to move
from my head to my heart and into my life. I am not going to shame myself
because I felt that way and may feel that way again. Christians go through hard
and dry seasons. They question, they doubt, they fear. But God’s promises cover
them.
I don’t have a finish line with my cancer. I will be chasing
it, and dealing with insurance, and dealing with other things in life that seem
overwhelming. Just like you. Whatever your trial or struggle—you may not have a
finish line. You may be dealing with it all your life. Allow yourself to feel
your pain, to cry, to lament, to doubt, to fear. But know this—no matter how
dark or how deep your pain or situation, there is hope. And it is found in
Jesus. You may not feel it. You may not see it. But He is with you. He promised
that. As I continue my struggle, that is what I rest in. That Jesus is with me.
I have been reading this Psalm each day and putting it in my
heart to get me through.
Psalm 143 (a psalm of lament)
“I am losing all hope; I am paralyzed with fear. I remember
the days of old. I ponder all your great works and think about what you have done.
I lift my hands to you in prayer. I thirst for you as parched land thirsts for
rain. (v 4-6)
“Let me hear of your unfailing love each morning, for I am
trusting you. Show me where to walk for I give myself to you...may your
gracious Spirit lead me forward on a firm footing….” (v 8-10)
I am a woman of faith. I believe in an unstoppable God. But
that doesn’t mean that I don’t hurt and cry and feel despondent. Don’t let the
lies tell you that you have to be upbeat, perky, strong, and know all the
answers that sound good if you are a person of faith . Accept how you feel.
Because Jesus accepts and loves you just as you are—in your hopelessness, fears,
anxieties, and joys.
2 comments:
As always I am moved by your honest approach to your situation. My faith continues to grow and strengthen as I learn of God's continuing grace through you my friend. You are in my daily prayers!
All my best,
Katy
Thank you for sharing your realness Kirsten...it does inspire us all to hope and trust in the same way. You are showing us what faith looks like, on the big screen!
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