To my dear friends:
It is interesting to me how something like a little cancer cell can wreak such chaos in our simple day to day of life. For some reason, from the very beginning, I was never truly attached to this insufferable little cell. I knew I had something going on with my body that needed to end, but cancer was not what I had expected. When we were able to see it on a screen, I still was sure that it was a harmless endometrial tumor. I’d had those before. I knew I would face surgery but that is only a blip in time. It was not until the pathology report came back “Ovarian Cancer” that I had the slightest inkling that things had gone wrong.
I remember sitting there in the doctor's office, I knew something was wrong because, even though my doctor is an expert, he doesn’t talk unless he has to and now I was sitting in his office chatting. My very pragmatic nature said, “Okay, let’s rid ourselves of this.” My emotional side immediately went to grief recalling the death of my sister from Ovarian Cancer. I reached for Lee and listened to my doctor try to minimize the chaos in my head. Immediately there came a wave of love from my God. “I've gotcha, don’t panic.”
I walked out of that office with my head clear and began to grieve. What I was grieving about, I am not sure: The loss of time to do chemo, the changes to my body, the intensity of the health problems I would face, the sadness and fear that Lee would endure during this time, the limits on my freedoms of time, space, acquaintances, and activities.
Then I started to think about you people, those who will get this email. How can I help them understand that I am okay with this? Okay means, not afraid, not blaming, and not questioning. I could tell them, --that is what I am doing.
You see, I know that God has me. He never let me go; I didn’t fall when I got this little beast because His arms were securely surrounding me. He has slowly wrapped them around me day after day as I read His words and talk to Him. Because He has never let me go, and promises that He won’t, I do not have to be scared. I have not once asked Him why I have this cancer; He told me the answer, to glorify Him. Oh, He didn’t give me cancer unless you would consider that when He knit me together in my mother’s womb, He let that little gene go through. He might have, but then He let the one that makes me able to tolerate chemo pretty well go through too. I cannot bless God for the second unless I am ready to bless Him for the first. So how can I question Him or blame Him for my living long enough to make one of these cells all for myself? Maybe this is why He gave me no children, no one to pass the gene along.
I think that the hardest part of this whole journey, thus far, has been giving up control to doctors. Many have said, "I bet you know everything there is to know about this cancer." No, I know very little. I don’t have to know, the doctors do. God will lead them. I know that sounds naïve but I don’t want to spend my time researching something that they already know about. I must just listen, question, and obey. When something is overwhelming, I have to quit trying to manage it myself.
The next part was giving up ministry. I have really struggled with that. I love to do what I do. I feel whole, I feel useful, and I feel close to God. In some little way, I am showing my gratitude for Jesus’ sacrifice for me. But the first thing I was told was to "slow down, do less, stay out of the cold, and limit access to people". This was very hard for me and I sat down, thought for a good long time, and drew some lines in the sand. Those lines have moved many times in the last month, not once without anger and heartache. I do not give up easily. The most emotional part has been this area. I just realized a few days ago how much anger there was in my being hemmed in, trimmed down and isolated. As I looked at that anger, I began to understand that I would not let God control this and yet He was in fact controlling it. You see, He loves me and He will do what He needs to do to take care of me. Even if I draw these little lines and tell Him not to cross over, yet with one step, right over my line, He picks me up in His great big arms, and moves me to safer ground. I like an impetuous kid, yell, (or cry) in anger and beat Him on the shoulder. He doesn’t go back because I need to be where He has put me, and I know it. I think I am ready to say thank you, but it has taken time. Some things can still make me cry.
You are the people that have been those loving arms. I am awe struck by your kindness, love, and concern. Your questions, hugs, emails, snail mail, funny cards, beautiful cards, silly notes, and wonderful verses have often caught me off guard, changed my thinking, and inspired me to new resolve. Your love has overcome any anger, sadness, loneliness, or bitterness I might have had. You have made yourself the image of Christ. I am forever thankful to you. Because of you, this journey has been more than positive and I expect that it will continue. I will let you in on it along the way.
With all my love, Marj.
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