And Then Suddenly

Cancer

If I were looking over a timeline of my life as I've known it, there would be a very distinct line dividing August 26, 2015 from everything prior.

Cancer

On August 26, 2015, I was called back into an anteroom in the surgery center and informed by John's GI doctor that he had found a mass in his colon.

Cancer

I don't even know how to describe what that feels like.  It's like your mind cannot comprehend what you're being told, and yet you do understand exactly what was said and all the scary implications that go with it.

After the doctor dropped an atomic bomb on my life as I knew it, then offered me a rudimentary "I'm sorry," I was ushered back into the waiting room.  The doctor hopped into his car and got on with his life.  Meanwhile, I was alone clinging to my Bible in a waiting room full of happy people discussing surfing in Australia or what their next meal should be.  After an eternity, a nurse allowed me to finally see John again.  And, that's when I had to break the news to my dearest love that our lives would never be the same.

Maybe I can actually describe what it feels like.  To be blunt, it sucks.

Though I knew cancer was a possible diagnosis, I was stunned to actually hear that word connected to John.  I guess I naively thought that should cancer happen to us, it would be when we were old, having lived a long and beautiful life.  I never imagined that at 37 years old with three kids 7 and under, I would suddenly be forced to contemplate what life is going to look like from this point on.

I've always kind of been a worst case scenario kind of girl.  I joked in the past with John on days that he hasn't been able to call me from work to check in that I was one shade of panic away from trying to figure out what to do with the life insurance money.  I always figured that I'd thought through the gritty details of what something like this would look like.  I can assure you that there's no way for your mind to figure through this kind of thing until you find yourself in the middle of it. I never would have imagined the powerful fear that overcame me when I realized that should this cancer be the way that the Lord brings John home, our two year old might not have any memories of his father healthy and well.  That thought can be crippling if I allow it.

The really strange thing is that it still doesn't seem real to me.  Our amazing church sends out a daily prayer list, and each time I saw John's name next to the words "colon cancer" it felt so surreal. I imagine one day, it will have sunk in.  I'm just not sure how long that takes.  At this point, it's been a little over a month since life as we know it was completely altered.  And, I feel as if I've lived an entire other life since that day.  My vocabulary has expanded to include words and phrases like sigmoid colon, clear margins and Lynch Syndrome.  My contact list now includes more doctors and medical professionals than I ever imagined I could have.  John and I have candidly discussed with medical professionals body functions that in the past were usually private events.  There is absolutely no modesty in colon cancer, a fact that, blessedly, we've been able to find the humor in.

 But, the most amazing thing to witness is when the body of Christ moves in situations such as this.  Having only been on the other side of these types of situation, I never fully understood how powerfully God shows up through the hands and feet of His children.  As John and I waited and prayed before his colonoscopy, God gave me a vision of the prayer warriors who were coming up beside us in this.  It was a literal army.  That army has mobilized to care for us via prayer, encouragement and other unexpected blessings.   Prior to this, I really had no clue of the depths of God's great love and mercy.  My new friend who I think of as my cancer mentor told me that she has come to a point where she is truly thankful for her cancer.  I'm not there yet.  I'm probably not even close to that point.  But, I am thankful for how tenderly and mercifully God has cradled us during this time.   To quote a truly lovely Steven Curtis Chapman song:
And this is going to be a glorious unfolding
Just you wait and see and you will be amazed
You've just got to believe the story is so far from over
So hold on to every promise God has made to us
And watch this glorious unfolding

To God be the glory!