A dark day.
A deep in the pit of despair type moment.
We sat in the car, out the front of the specialist offices- and we cried.
We made some tough phone calls to let family know- and we cried.
We stumbled our way into the office of our pastors and friends- and we cried.
We held hands and we tried not to think about our sons- and we cried.
It was, on the whole, a rather dreadful day.
And the next day was ordinary.
And the day after that was slightly worse.
It was a season of bleakness and sighs.
I didn't know what to say.
I couldn't find the words to bring before God in any semblance of a prayer, so I sighed.
A deep, million-words-worth sigh.
The days stretched out.
It was like time had suddenly slowed down.
In one conversation with a well meaning stranger, they slowly shook their head and stretched out a hand in comfort.
"Well... That's the worse news ever... Just horrible."
And with a sad half smile, they left me standing in a state of somewhat semi-shock.
Really??
Seriously??
Was this life altering, time slowing, sigh inducing, tear wrenching event actually the WORST news?
I had a moment of mild panic.
I felt like a terrible, uncaring wife.
Because, in my sadness and through the sighs and amongst the tears I had never, NEVER classed this as being the WORST news.
Unexpected? Yes.
Life changing? Yes.
Difficult? Yes.
Worst news ever? No. Negative. Nope.
What would be worse- not having a chance to fight. And we are fighting.
What would be worse- never having found each other. And we found each other.
What would be worse- not knowing the joy of salvation. And we know that joy.
What would be worse- not having the anchor of hope. And we are anchored to hope.
What would be worse- oh so many things and tragedies could be worse than the battle we are fighting.
And here is my conclusion to WHY this cancer diagnosis, this unexpected redundant employment situation, this house-less (not homeless..we always have a home) state we currently are experiencing is NOT the WORST thing that can happen.
It's because we said so.
We decided.
We put our heads together and decided that everything happening in our world was not going to be defined as the WORST THING EVER.
Quite honestly, we are rarely going to totally and completely control what happens in and around our world. It's just foolish to think otherwise.
We had little control over the growing and spreading cancer cells.
We had no control over the unstable nature of the mining industry.
We held limited control over the ability to maintain a costly residence with depleting supply.
Everything in our world seemed to be crumbling and yet we remained fairly stable.
We are rarely going to control what happens in and around our world, but we do get to control our reactions.
We get to control our responses.
We get to decide where our hope is anchored.
We get to decide how trustworthy a promise made by Commander-of-the-angel-armies actually is.
We get to decide to have a good old sob, an ugly-face type cry, and then stop the tears. And find something to smile about.
We get to choose life.
We get to choose hope.
We get to choose to be emotional, but not be ruled by those emotions.
I get to choose to be heartbroken and heartmended all at the same time.
I get to choose to laugh at the future, not cower at the thought of tomorrow.
I get to choose life, with the surety of the painful weaved in with the beautiful.
I get to choose to say with an assurance that is neither logical or rational that everything is going to be absolutely fine.
About two days before we got the official cancer diagnosis I had a vivid, felt like real-life sort of dream. Sheldon was driving and a massive black cloud started to swirl in front of us. It was a scary looking storm. He turned to me and took my hand and I asked him, "Have you ever driven into such a big storm?" And he looked at me ( even in my dream I could tell we were both a bit frightened), and he said, "no babe..". And with that, we drove straight into the storm- a headlong hurtle.
I sang a song when I was little girl.
It had actions and everything.
You might know it.
"With Christ in the vessel I can smile at the storm,
Smile at the storm,
Smile at the storm,
As we go sailing home.."
Smile at the storm.
You can.
It's your choice.
And when you decide to smile at the storm, the storm is not the WORST thing EVER.. it's just the storm.
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