“Where the battle rages, there the loyalty of the soldier is proved.” ― Martin Luther
These days people are asking me how I’m doing. More than usual. My wife is fighting cancer. This has become a long term struggle with many soldiers helping us in each and every skirmish.
I’m not sure what to say when asked how I’m doing. Sometimes people really want to get an update. Sometimes this question is just an expression of compassion and support as we pass along the way. Still, other times I’m asked by folks who aren’t getting a clear picture from me and are trying to imagine themselves in my shoes. What’s it really like?
Sometimes people just don’t ask. Maybe it’s just too overwhelming for others. Maybe there just aren’t any words.
Typically I’m responding without thinking too much. My response depends upon my mood, my schedule, my need at the moment to let it all out.
How AM I doing? Well, it’s complicated…
I’m feeling scared
The world I live in is mostly filled with a lot of certainty. Watching my wife manage an ever changing daily battle with stage four cancer (that’s now in her brain) and all the medication side-effects brings a daily dose of uncertainty into my (our) life. Mostly we have routines and rituals that make life so comfortable. When the journey heads into the unknown, fear begins to howl in the background.
“Adulthood brings with it the pernicious illusion of control, and perhaps even depends on it. I mean that mirage of dominion over our own life that allows us to feel like adults, for we associate maturity with autonomy, the sovereign right to determine what is going to happen to us next. Disillusion comes sooner or later, but it always comes, it doesn’t miss an appointment, it never has.” ― Juan Gabriel Vásquez
I’m feeling full of hope
Not a single day passes that I don’t experience encouragement of some sort. It is all around me (us). It comes in all the expected places, the emails, notes, hugs. But is also appears out of nowhere. Strangers who lift so much of the burden and never even realize it. All sorts of little “coincidences” seem to appear right and left. I don’t go very far without sensing and knowing the presence of God. My faith has found a resting place. Despite what has happened so far, the core of my belief is not moved. These beliefs are ever more resolved as I am pulled into the deep end.
“It’s amazing how many coincidences occur when one begins to pray.” – Bill Hybels
I’m too busy to think about it
Life has gotten very fast for a number of reasons. Fighting cancer is a whole other career to add to what’s already on our plates. It’s easy to get behind with one important part of life while trying to manage a whole new chapter.
It’s too easy to slip into the fast lane and wake up three counties later, unconscious of so much that always matters.
“If you aren’t in over your head, how do you know how tall you are?” ― T. S. Eliot
I’m uncertain about what the future holds
Our mode of thought has been to just think about today. Even though there are always future plans of some sort that are a normal part of life, we are trying to readjust and live more in the moment – hang on to this day. When I do think about the future; retirement, grandchildren, remaking the house, who am I going to give all my junk to? Sometimes it can be frightening – going from theory to practice. It’s sweet to quote the proverb about numbering your days, but actually doing it is a whole other matter. Living like there’s no tomorrow makes one take today that much more seriously.
“Teach us to realize the brevity of life, so that we may grow in wisdom.” – Psalm 90:12
I’m often around other people who don’t want to talk about our “situation.” I imagine that most people are uncomfortable talking about serious illness – what do you say? These days, so many have a lack of personal experience. Great health care and growing distance within families means that suffering and death are not experiences we learn to manage in the same ways our parents and grandparents did.
Let’s be honest. Who wouldn’t be mad every single day. If there was any sort of justice, I’d be the one hit by the dump truck of life, not her. Who knew that the uncertainties of life were going to come and trample in our yard? Living in a society that promotes and promises justice doesn’t mean the experience is always assured. It’s a hope, not a certainty. Instead of trying to find justice in all of this, the best way to work through the weeds is to be truthful and admit these feelings, find people to talk it out with and pray without ceasing (in all honesty).
“Anger is an acid that can do more harm to the vessel in which it is stored than to anything on which it is poured.” ― Mark Twain
I’m counting my blessings
Perspective helps with all sorts of situations. But how do you put cancer into perspective? There is always something to be thankful about. In each and every situation there is a way to find thanks. There is always another person near who needs to feel a little mercy and grace. Instead of anguish, there is thankfulness for so much more of life never taken for granted anymore.
“To be in hell is to drift; to be in heaven is to steer.” ― George Bernard Shaw
I’m buckled in for the roller coaster ride
When a life threatening illness strikes there is always a loss of control. A feeling of “what’s next?” Living a life that’s not really mine, it belongs to a disease that’s taking control of more and more. Of course there is always this illusion that I was ever really in control of anything in the first place. The economy shifts, someone new comes into power or a hurricane appears on the horizon. Instead of looking for control or being heartbroken because of the loss, I’m learning how to just survive today. I used to have all sorts of big plans for the future. Maybe that was a mistake.
“Freedom is the only worthy goal in life. It is won by disregarding things that lie beyond our control.” – Epictetus
Well, how AM I doing? It’s still complicated…but I made it another day, and I tried to make it count.
O LOVE THAT WILT NOT LET ME GO – George Matheson
O love that wilt not let me go,
I rest my weary soul in thee;
I give thee back the life I owe,
that in thine ocean depths its flow
may richer, fuller be.
O joy that seekest me through pain,
I cannot close my heart to thee;
I trace the rainbow through the rain,
and feel the promise is not vain
that morn shall tearless be.
5 thoughts on “It’s Complicated”
Thank you, Randy, for such an honest, sober, faithful post. I, too, have felt each of these and more. May the Lord grant you and Dawn strength for the journey, peace for each day, and hope that does not waiver in the face of the mountains which lay before you. I am not exactly where you are, but your words reflect my experience with my wife’s cancer journey, and now my own. “May the Lord bless you, and keep you; may His face shine upon you and be gracious to you; may His favor rest upon you and give you peace.” Our prayers for you and Dawn continue. Peace & Love, my brother.
Thank you for being so thoughtful to comment. You continue to be such an encouragement (to everyone!). I’m so thankful that you have crossed our paths years ago. My heart is broken that you are both suffering, still. I know you are making each day count. RW
The war will end in victory….your hope is our hope…and as Paul says in 2 Cor. 3-4, “We are human, but we don’t wage war with human plans and methods. We use God’s mighty weapons…” you both “are doing so well.” We are lifted up. -Dad
I was one of your students in the early 2000’s and remember so much about your class. Not necessarily all of the content (sorry!), but I remember that you made a point to get to know your students by name and have a relationship with each of us long after we had completed your class.
Your blog resonated with me because I am facing an unknown battle as well. My husband and I are awaiting test results about our baby, and it’s scary. We are waiting to find out if the baby has Trisomy 13, which is not compatible with life. While our hope is that the baby will be just fine, we also know that “even if not, He is still good.” (Daniel 3:18). While we are still weeks away from the results, I find myself wading through the emotions of anger, hope, and absolute fear; sometimes all within the span of five minutes. It’s a humbling place to be.
I’m going to begin praying for you and Dawn, and the battle you are both fighting.
All the best,
Brittney Adams Ford
HBU Class of ’06
I’m so gad to hear from you Brittney. What a terrible tribulation you both are going through right now. I pray that you resonate with the grace and love that have filled your lives, so that everyone around you knows what real hope is like, in the sunshine and the floods…