I was listening to family radio one day and they were featuring some of their most popular segments from 2019. The interview that day was with Lysa Terkeurst, one of my favorite authors and speakers. Her books have ministered to me during some difficult days. As she shared her story, one moment stood out to me so clearly. Her voice, filled with emotion, stated that even though God had done so much through her very difficult circumstances, she still wished that it wasn't her story. As I heard the tears through the radio, I felt the tears sliding down my cheeks. I still don't think I've gotten over my story. In fact, I know I haven't. Part of me still feels like I've been reborn into some other life that I haven't quite gotten used to. I'm often in the growing pains stage, and other times I'm contented with the beauty of it. All of it, I know, is part of a personal narrative that God has written and blessed...but that doesn't mean it isn't hard.
For those who may not know me, I'll try to briefly explain. A little over seven years ago I found out that I had thyroid cancer. While this is one of the most treatable cancers, it came right as I had a newborn, a three year old, and a five year old. I was overwhelmed, recovering from a difficult pregnancy, and most likely dealing with some post-pardum depression. Having a nodule growing on top of my esophagus was scary, and the big C was even scarier. Having it removed, and therefore "curing" it, wasn't the easy solution it was made out to be. My doctor recommended forgoing radiation, so over the next two years I had to get regular blood checks and sonograms to make sure nothing grew back. My anxiety levels were higher than ever. A year after my thyroidectomy, after many problems with regulating my thyroid medication, I had another surgery that was supposed to be fairly easy. I developed a post surgical infection that resulted in two hospital trips and quite a while in recovery, even after I was home. Yet within a few days of getting home I was thrust back into full-time Mom duties. I'm so thankful for friends and family who came to help. I couldn't have made it without them. Years passed and we faced other challenges, including my husband changing pastoral positions, packing up and selling our home of 12 years and moving, new job, new community, new church, our kids went to school for the first time (I had been homeschooling), my oldest son broke his leg in the midst of my trying to pack up and move, both of our vehicles (that were paid off) died...it seemed like the list never ended. The worst, however, was finding out my Mom had cancer and my Dad having a stroke the same day. That began one of the hardest seasons of my life, by far. I still haven't unpacked all the feelings of that year. I'll always be grateful that my husband and I decided that I wouldn't work and we would use our savings so that I could be with my parents during that time. It was a gift to me and my family from God, but I won't lie. I wish it wasn't my story. I learned a lot during that time. I cried a lot and I didn't laugh much. I experienced a wide range of emotions, yet I held in a lot of emotions, too, as a means of self-preservation. I can even remember the first time I laughed again after a long period of time. It felt strange and good. A year after my Mom's diagnosis she went to be with the Lord, and less that two years after that, my Dad joined her.
As I said before, I still haven't completely settled into this new life. Life without my parents. My Mom was one of my best friends. We talked on the phone or in person almost daily. She cheered on my dreams and made me feel like I could do anything. She updated me on all the family news as she was the hub of all the family communication. Just the other day I was talking through some feelings with my husband about not being in touch with some extended family like I used to. One of my struggles was that it was hard to find out things about our family through other people and then hear, "Oh, you didn't know that?" Awkward. Yet, I had to stop myself and ask the question, "How often am I communicating with them?" Not very often. But how did I used to feel so connected and now I don't? It hit me kind of hard. Mom used to be the one that communicated regularly with everyone then she would update me. It made me feel like I was "in the know," as if I had talked to them myself. I was glad that this became clearer to me, and it challenged me to think differently about the situation and even confess some things to the Lord. But it was hard, too. Sad. I still miss "the old days."
So how do we handle it when life takes a turn? When our dreams of the future change drastically with death of loved ones, isolation, unmet expectations, and personal struggles? There's no set answer for that. It's going to be different for every individual person and situation. What I do know is that God doesn't leave us stranded. He walks right beside us through every struggle, every hard day, and every night we cry into the pillow. In fact, the Bible says that he collects our tears. This scene from "The Shack" made me think of how He takes all of our sorrow and can turn it into something beautiful. He carries our burdens, our heartaches. He has gone before us, comes behind us, and wraps His arms around us. Sorrow is not foreign to Him. He says, "Come to me, and I will give you rest." I couldn't make it through this new season without the Lord. I still have a lot of difficult days of adjusting, remembering, and grieving. With Him, though, I have a constant companion and confidante. He never grows tired of me or my struggles. If you don't know Him, just talk to Him. He hears, He sees. He will make beauty from the ashes.
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