I’m sitting here on my last week of work thinking about transitions and how exciting, un-nerving, self-reflecting, encouraging, overwhelming they can be. I stepped out on a limb in my faith and quit a portion of my job without having a backup plan in place. I know, some of you are nursing broken ribs and having to pick yourself up off the floor right now after reading that. Those of you that know me know that this is 100% uncharacteristic of the Sally you’ve come to know and rely on. Putting it mildly, I’m a planner. I’m a detail oriented to-do list crosser offer. I always know my last steps, my current steps, and my next steps. So this thing I have done has scared me to death for the last few months leading up to and the last month leading away from. You know I must have had some intense motivating factors to choose this seemingly irresponsible path. Something to push me over the edge. Well the “IT” pushed for almost a year and finally after several altering events, I chose. So here I sit potentially under-employed. I’ve done it. There is no denying it. I’ve been living it for a month now and it feels scary and foreign. And you know what else? It feels….a little affirming! Faith affirming as I trust (and beg) God to guide me…and then I wait…
I’ve done something seemingly drastic (not mastectomy kind of drastic, just drastic in its own right). And I went about it a whole new method. No planning for a definitive outcome. No lining up my ducks and mapping out a route – well I tried that method months ago and then when nothing lined up I decided to abandon my usual course. I sort of just jumped! Head first into a grey hole of maybe, maybe not. A hole of what ifs. I turned in my resignation (with a definitive date but without a definite plan) and there I swam for over a month waiting to see if a lead would come about. My swimmies were working overtime! My emotional skin became a little waterlogged. I had some head bobbing and maybe a few moments of choke on sea water, but time and time again my little head would pop back up above the surface. Surprise, surprise! Maybe I had found something new. Maybe my years of careful planning and carefully measuring each and every step wasn’t the only foolproof method of getting from here to there.
Therefore, I ask myself what method is correct. That is always the infamous question lurking on your agenda. Clearly calculated? Relying on an educated instinct? Reactive spontaneity? Passive fluidity? How do we guarantee effective outcomes in decision making (or lack thereof)? I’ve spent my whole life worrying if the decision is right. Is it in God’s will? Sometimes, I am paralyzed by that thinking. Other times I’m motivated to positive outcome in careful thought. But there is definitely a fine line there between productivity and paralysis for me. Marry or stay single? Children or no children? Private school? Home school? Do we take a pay cut to increase life balance? Do we move to Oregon to be closer to family? Stay in Texas for opportunity? Try the chemotherapy? Buy the car? Choose the mastectomy? Roll the dice? It’s exhausting and it’s never ending! There is always some decision to be made, some risk and benefit to balance out. And for us Type A go-getters, there exists a good bit of turmoil in the process of choosing correctly. Choosing what you, my support system, will approve of, choosing what God would honor, choosing with minimal impact to the spouse. Choosing, choosing, choosing! There is pressure in that people! Some serious, intense, often paralyzing pressure! Ten years ago, I would have never made this decision I just made about this job. Not because it would have been the wrong decision to jump ship, but because I would have been immobilized by the thought that it MIGHT have been the wrong decision. I’m a pleaser. I’m a right and wrong kind of gal. Step away from the risk of a bad decision, Sally! Surely you, too, have been there. Maybe you, like me, own a condo there that you visit with too much frequency. Sometimes it’s easier to stay put and endure the whatever rather than go out on a limb of change. Sometimes refusing to choose is the only choice you can make and survive the risk of emotional collapse. (I truly hope at least one of you can relate to me in this and that I’m not the sole freak of decision bondage out there.) I have to ask myself if lack of choice is God honoring? Sometimes the easy way out, in this case avoidance, is in fact the very sin (or wrong decision) you were so desperately trying to avoid in the first place. Or stressing over a decision to a point of exhaustion - it can rob you of all joy in knowing and trusting in God that can result from choice. I exude stress about making the decision that would please God and in the process am robbed of the flourishing that can come from seeking out wisdom in the Holy Spirit. Guilty poster child, right here in the flesh, on too many occasions to speak of!
The question becomes how do I as a Christ-follower break from this pattern? Dare I say it, this bondage of self-doubt and fear? I think it’s important for me to recognize that I do in fact desperately seek God’s guidance with the best motive and intent. I truly trust His plan more than anything I could come up with on my own. I listen, I wait, I seek counsel. My sin doesn’t originate in that as that is exactly what God desires. My sin comes in allowing Satan to get his arm in the battle. He’s there. And he’s ruthless. And He is in hot pursuit of me as he knows perfection and a fear of being out of step is my very weakness and his knowledge of that gives him the advantage. He knows me as well as I know me and he calculates. He speaks the words in my ear that infiltrate me with doubt. I lose my trust in Christ and instead focus on my doubt of self. Don’t get me wrong, doubt can serve a very worthwhile purpose. It can keep you from making stupid self-driven decisions. I have to ask myself is this God-inspired doubt? Is it Sally’s human inspired doubt? Is it Satan doing his thing to muddle my course? How do you tell? So if doubt can be Satan in some circumstances, Sally in others, and yet even the Holy Spirit’s nudging to listen in another, I can easily find myself in a dilemma, a swirl of racing thoughts, a puddle of doubt driven bone and flesh. The lines get blurred. How in the world can I have confidence in my decision in those circumstances where God is seemingly not pointing me in a certain direction? How do I not end up paralyzed and afraid to move in any direction at all?
Well you see, I am learning. Boy, has it been a process most evident in the last 5-10 years. I am learning to have that thoughtful discernment and seeking of wise counsel. Let me tell you, it is not innate for me. I’m learning to rely on little nudges that help decipher. I’m looking at the big picture and not each and every single plausible individual piece in minute excruciating detail. I’m also recognizing that God just wants to be part of the process. He doesn’t want our hectic chaotic FEAR driven digging and dissecting in an attempt to please him in our decisions. He wants our respectful TRUST driven rational approach while paying attention to the details at hand, actively listening to prompts He may give, and acceptance of He is bigger than my decision. Some things will be black and white, truly right and wrong. Those are a given. And others may be neither black nor white, neither right nor wrong. Either choice will be an opportunity to honor God. Do you move to Oregon- sure! God will honor your decision to focus on family and use you to impact those around you. Do you stay in Texas- sure, God will honor you attention to work ethic and use you to impact those around you. Do you have children? Sure, they truly are a blessing from Him to you. Do you not have children? Sure, if your motive is in check and you use yourself accordingly. What God wants from me is to seek Him in the process. Converse with him. Look for true black and white, if it exists, and when it doesn’t rationally (not in fearful chaos) proceed with a choice and watch for God to confirm. Even if I make a poor decision, no doubt even in that He can make something great, or else he can grow me through consequence. So there is even trust in that if I actively seek Him in the process of decision making. Sometimes He will instruct me to watch and wait. Other times he will very distinctly ask me to act. And other times, He just wants to know that I cared enough to ask him and the decision is all mine to make, no wrong answer. He will Honor me in my choice of choosing him along the way. So I ask myself again, what is the right method of choice? They can potentially all be right in certain scenarios. Some of us will decide with passive fluidity. Some with careful calculation. Some with reactivity. That’s the beauty of personality. Many times it’s not the how, it’s not the what, it’s the who. He meets me where I am-after all, He was the one who purposely designed me to be Type A.
So after a year, or more intensely after six months, of seeking guidance, I actively and rationally chose. I have limited fear of right or wrong as I know I sought him in the process. Even if this next opportunity proves to be a poor match, I have no doubt that God will redirect me. He cares for me even more than I care for Him! I resigned from a position without a firm plan for my future, truly a first for me. And you know what? There exists an overarching feeling of peace. Sure, some doubt lurks underneath. Some fear of “what have I done?” is right there waiting to bust out. But covering it all, there sits peace. And that, my friends, is confirmation of God’s presence in this process. Peace. For those inquiring minds, I got confirmation just yesterday that guess what? God showed up not only with peace, but with a plan! I finish this job on Friday and start a new perfectly designed for me opportunity on Tuesday. Step away paralyzing fear! We have to quit meeting like this. You are no longer welcome here.
January 8, 2014 - Strangely, Empowered!
I bet you didn’t expect to find me posting. I didn’t expect to find me posting. The outcome presented itself after repeatedly finding myself in places of people asking “what happened to you posts? I miss them” or “how am I supposed to keep up with you now” or “I was sharing this with a friend who was working to embrace mastectomy through your experience, now there is nothing to share…” I experienced this a good bit over the holidays and it prompted me to re-evaluate why I stopped writing, but more so it propelled me into this one post as an update to so many of you who have inquired and got my usual “good” canned response. To quote Ron when he asked me what I am working on as I sit here typing- “what in the world?” I’m surprised myself to see these words entering the page.
In quick summary: I am doing very well post mastectomy! It’s been a quiet 8 months since my last revision surgery on the imposters. I’m good and all is well with both Boob 1 and Boob 2.2. They found a new home and I accepted the new tenants. What more could I ask for? I still want my old boobs back, if given the choice, simply because they were mine purposed for me by my ancestors (Thanks Sarah and Jane!) but these imposters are a good second option since it came to that. That is the short and sweet reader’s digest version.
The in depth, more detailed, more analytical response is something, more like: I’ve successfully embraced mastectomy and all its triumphs and woes and surprisingly feel more accomplished as a female. The latter of that statement being the key point that has caught me off-guard. I have fake boobs, but I have success and a new oomph propelling me. I dodged breast cancer and gained a perspective I doubt I ever would have obtained without the mastectomies. Is it possible to lop off two sacks of saggy fat and find empowerment in the process? I once posted in response to Jolie’s choice to undergo prophylactic mastectomy. I was dissecting the attribution of “brave” I kept finding in the media. I struggled with that description early on. Now, I have a better understanding of that term. I do in fact think I’m more in tune with actively (as opposed to passively) engaging challenging situations after choosing mastectomy. Call it brave, call it empowered. It’s as if I found a “if I can choose this, I can choose and maneuver through anything” mentality. It’s of course not all success and triumph, we all recall my battle scars (and physical scars), read my old posts if you have forgotten, but I have risen above that, instead incorporating it in to a goulash of adjectives that go with this drastic medical procedure. I’m taking it all as a lump sum instead of selectively opting for some over the other. No longer do I grieve. No longer do I slink in and out in self-conscious movement. I’m out of my fog of unfamiliar. Instead, I just am. I’m empowered by the goulash of mastectomy. That’s a triumph, right? So yes, there is hope for you if you find yourself in the six week/ six month/ one year jumble of post mastectomy fog. I fully admit I don’t think there is any way another person that can fully prepare you for all that comes, but I will bet with great confidence that you will find yourself on the other side of those surreal emotions to embrace the journey with a perspective of “I just did that. I just did that. Really, I just did that!” Score: 1000! Looking back at past posts, I would question the how I got from there to here. But I did. And I don’t have to understand the how. There, all wrapped up in one long paragraph. As if.
This past week, Ron and I went through the loss of a parent. Ron’s dad lost his largely triumphant 2 year battle with recurrent melanoma. Five days before Christmas, after an admission to the hospital for abdominal pain, he decided he wanted to finish out his time in Home Hospice. So the family took him home for the remainder of his care. It was an intense week of caregiving, grieving, learning, observing, analyzing, loving, and the list goes on. He lived 9 more days at home. The last weeks/months of a cancer diagnosis can be intense. So many make it to overcome the disease, others are left with the outcome as Ron’s dad had. I, having been a lymphoma survivor and now a dodger of breast cancer, found myself whirling in the thoughts and emotions that come with being the survivor in the presence of someone still in their battle. Being in the career I am in, I battle this awareness on a daily basis, often subconsciously, others, as in the case of Ron’s dad, fully aware of the blessing (and curse) of survivorship. Likewise, I’m not naive to the blessing in the passage into the hereafter for those that succumb to the pains of advanced disease. Cancer carries a spectrum of manifestations, several of which are heart breaking for not only the patient, but the family. This understanding is what propelled me to the mastectomy choice I made. While amazing incredible life changing outcomes can be birthed from a cancer diagnosis, at times, it can carry a heartache that is challenging to soothe for all involved. Mastectomy most likely will save me and my family from the depths of a second cancer diagnosis. I was fully aware of that decision these last few weeks. Ron’s family navigated the emotions of a cancer death, but they also absorbed the riches that can come as well to those left behind. The incredible outpouring of community (over 600 people attended his visitation). The nostalgia of celebrating life. The inward pull of family propelling each other into the next day. They will not only survive this, they will enhance so many lives around them in the process of the journey. They found the blessing that can flow from confusion and illusion of the unfair. It’s a testament to what can happen when you actively seek out blessings in chaos. I’m grateful to have been there to observe it all.
I want to help people navigate it all. The choices, the outcomes, the ups, the downs, the complex ins and out of malignancy. Be it the active choice to lessen your risk through drastic decisions like mastectomy, or the journey that ensues following the diagnosis. I want people to see the triumph in survivorship, the triumph in death, and the amazing outcomes that can spawn from the despair of loss for those left behind. I truly believe in reason and purpose. I’m a survivor of life because of reason and purpose. I may have factory manufactured spheres of gel on my chest, but with that comes perspective and active seeking of what next. I gained an empowerment because I chose imposters. Face forward and navigate. There is much to be gained. And be sure and laugh a little at the absurdity of it all. That helps too.
Click www.tradinginthetatas.blogspot.com to access other posts.
In quick summary: I am doing very well post mastectomy! It’s been a quiet 8 months since my last revision surgery on the imposters. I’m good and all is well with both Boob 1 and Boob 2.2. They found a new home and I accepted the new tenants. What more could I ask for? I still want my old boobs back, if given the choice, simply because they were mine purposed for me by my ancestors (Thanks Sarah and Jane!) but these imposters are a good second option since it came to that. That is the short and sweet reader’s digest version.
The in depth, more detailed, more analytical response is something, more like: I’ve successfully embraced mastectomy and all its triumphs and woes and surprisingly feel more accomplished as a female. The latter of that statement being the key point that has caught me off-guard. I have fake boobs, but I have success and a new oomph propelling me. I dodged breast cancer and gained a perspective I doubt I ever would have obtained without the mastectomies. Is it possible to lop off two sacks of saggy fat and find empowerment in the process? I once posted in response to Jolie’s choice to undergo prophylactic mastectomy. I was dissecting the attribution of “brave” I kept finding in the media. I struggled with that description early on. Now, I have a better understanding of that term. I do in fact think I’m more in tune with actively (as opposed to passively) engaging challenging situations after choosing mastectomy. Call it brave, call it empowered. It’s as if I found a “if I can choose this, I can choose and maneuver through anything” mentality. It’s of course not all success and triumph, we all recall my battle scars (and physical scars), read my old posts if you have forgotten, but I have risen above that, instead incorporating it in to a goulash of adjectives that go with this drastic medical procedure. I’m taking it all as a lump sum instead of selectively opting for some over the other. No longer do I grieve. No longer do I slink in and out in self-conscious movement. I’m out of my fog of unfamiliar. Instead, I just am. I’m empowered by the goulash of mastectomy. That’s a triumph, right? So yes, there is hope for you if you find yourself in the six week/ six month/ one year jumble of post mastectomy fog. I fully admit I don’t think there is any way another person that can fully prepare you for all that comes, but I will bet with great confidence that you will find yourself on the other side of those surreal emotions to embrace the journey with a perspective of “I just did that. I just did that. Really, I just did that!” Score: 1000! Looking back at past posts, I would question the how I got from there to here. But I did. And I don’t have to understand the how. There, all wrapped up in one long paragraph. As if.
This past week, Ron and I went through the loss of a parent. Ron’s dad lost his largely triumphant 2 year battle with recurrent melanoma. Five days before Christmas, after an admission to the hospital for abdominal pain, he decided he wanted to finish out his time in Home Hospice. So the family took him home for the remainder of his care. It was an intense week of caregiving, grieving, learning, observing, analyzing, loving, and the list goes on. He lived 9 more days at home. The last weeks/months of a cancer diagnosis can be intense. So many make it to overcome the disease, others are left with the outcome as Ron’s dad had. I, having been a lymphoma survivor and now a dodger of breast cancer, found myself whirling in the thoughts and emotions that come with being the survivor in the presence of someone still in their battle. Being in the career I am in, I battle this awareness on a daily basis, often subconsciously, others, as in the case of Ron’s dad, fully aware of the blessing (and curse) of survivorship. Likewise, I’m not naive to the blessing in the passage into the hereafter for those that succumb to the pains of advanced disease. Cancer carries a spectrum of manifestations, several of which are heart breaking for not only the patient, but the family. This understanding is what propelled me to the mastectomy choice I made. While amazing incredible life changing outcomes can be birthed from a cancer diagnosis, at times, it can carry a heartache that is challenging to soothe for all involved. Mastectomy most likely will save me and my family from the depths of a second cancer diagnosis. I was fully aware of that decision these last few weeks. Ron’s family navigated the emotions of a cancer death, but they also absorbed the riches that can come as well to those left behind. The incredible outpouring of community (over 600 people attended his visitation). The nostalgia of celebrating life. The inward pull of family propelling each other into the next day. They will not only survive this, they will enhance so many lives around them in the process of the journey. They found the blessing that can flow from confusion and illusion of the unfair. It’s a testament to what can happen when you actively seek out blessings in chaos. I’m grateful to have been there to observe it all.
I want to help people navigate it all. The choices, the outcomes, the ups, the downs, the complex ins and out of malignancy. Be it the active choice to lessen your risk through drastic decisions like mastectomy, or the journey that ensues following the diagnosis. I want people to see the triumph in survivorship, the triumph in death, and the amazing outcomes that can spawn from the despair of loss for those left behind. I truly believe in reason and purpose. I’m a survivor of life because of reason and purpose. I may have factory manufactured spheres of gel on my chest, but with that comes perspective and active seeking of what next. I gained an empowerment because I chose imposters. Face forward and navigate. There is much to be gained. And be sure and laugh a little at the absurdity of it all. That helps too.
Click www.tradinginthetatas.blogspot.com to access other posts.
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