I've been off the grid, and I've gotten my hand nudged twice now. I know, I know. I've been silent a few weeks. It's not on purpose but rather a reflection of several things:
- I'm in survival mode. It's been a crazy few weeks. And I haven't taken the time to sit down and write anything. Well, I've taken the time, but to work and to sleep, not to write.
- Oliver (our cat) is "dying". He developed a pleural effusion (fluid on the lungs) that required 4 days in the ICU (Seriously, people) and frequent visits back for fluid taps after his initial discharge. Most recent, I picked him up at 3 am Saturday morning. So we spent a few days sleep deprived and now he needs a lot of TLC and oversight. My weeknights are spent counting Oliver breaths. Sweetest Pookie ever and he's stolen my heart. Prayers for wisdom as we decide when the time has come.
- There have been lot of "going ons" with family and friends, but as those are not my stories to tell, I haven't mentioned them here. But they have focused me off myself and on to them.
- I don't have any boob updates as my biopsy is not until October 13, so I am simply waiting that out. The good news is I have had a lot of distraction to keep the boob out of sight and out of mind.
- I never want to write simply because I can. I try to reserve words on this screen for either promptings where God may have laid something on my heart, or for the benefit of someone facing mastectomy (or whatever else). If I wished I had known it, I try to write it. But i don't want to write, just to write.
So I just wanted you to know that we are ok. Distracted, but ok. And I will keep you updated as October 13 comes and goes. I'm peaceful. And that is where the praise should focus. It's incredible how trying these last 4 years have been (six surgeries, moving, the death of Ron's father, the death of my grandmother, job transitions for Ron, this boob lump, lung fibrosis, Oliver diagnoses... the list goes on and on as it does for all of us) and just when I think I can't deal with one more thing, I somehow do. I think it is a true reflection of how peace, while it doesn't remove sadness or fatigue or anger, does somehow carry you from this to that. This past year, being one of the most challenging of the 4, has somehow also been my most peaceful. It seems almost impossible, yet it is. There has been peace that has over-ridden all the chaos underneath. Like I said, I have still cried (a lot!). I have wrestled with emotional exhaustion. I have floundered in frustration. I have juggled anxious moments. But the peace was there the whole time. It's as if I am finally able to not only say, but actually live in and believe that even in chaos, there is purpose. And that realization simply carries me through. One of you commented that you noticed that after finding this breast nodule I said to it "welcome home". And that has stuck with me. I think that ability to accept this lump, come what may, is a true testament of God transitioning me from a person so fully prone to angst and worry into a child of faith who see purpose in every story. It doesn't remove the emotions, but it sure does instill an underlying calm. And calm is where it is at. A friend recently asked me over dinner how I got here, and I wish I had this 10 step plan to finding calm. But I don't. It sort of found me and pulled me in, this reliance on purpose and intent. I'm fully aware that I am a better Sally for my "challenges" than I ever would be for my "easy goes it", and I simply love seeing the before and after in me and in you as you juggle life. I do know Step 1 is realizing the world owes us nothing, and instead we owe God everything, including faith in his plans. I kind of started there with that truth and asked God to get me from there to here. I've also been able to look back at the monuments in life where I saw worry destroy the whole journey, but calm bring about blessing beyond blessing. So I'm keeping that in mind and am doing a daily gut check to keep my focus on calm. It's an active process, and it's working.
You have your own dilemmas. Some of them are doozies. Yet, we all have the same promises from God. Christ came to overcome. That does not mean to remove the situation, but in his promise we can find calm. And we can see life outside of ourselves and what we think the world owes us. We spend our whole lives playing Leap Frog as we leap from one problem to the next (we are no different than the person sitting next to us, we all have our thing), but how we leap says everything. So I'm working on my leap and working on making as little noise as possible. And boy, what a leap it has been.
To access previous blog posts - click HERE.
