A Winding Journey

I remember when I was a kid, my dad used to drive us from Michigan to California. We had to go around the Rocky Mountains and those roads were pretty narrow in places. Winding and narrow and we sat as close to the mountain side of the car as we could. I don’t think they had guard rails in those days.

Sometimes life feels like that journey through and around the mountains. Just when you think you’re on a straight path, the road curves sharply to the left or right. Or you are suddenly racing down a steep hill and you wonder if the brakes will hold out.

That’s kind of how I’ve been feeling these past few months of unexpected breast cancer. It’s still hard to say those words because I don’t feel like I have cancer. It’s just a word that some tests found and confirmed, but it’s so small I don’t feel anything. I don’t see any good reason (other than I believe the tests aren’t lying) to have surgery tomorrow morning. Still, I will go through with it because no one wants to leave cancer inside of their bodies, right?

Yet…sometimes we do. Not physical cancer. We want that gone and don’t ever come back, thank you! I’m talking about the kinds of emotional and spiritual cancers we don’t even recognize or we purposely ignore. We just keep going down that winding road of emotional struggle or spiritual dryness and soul misery without realizing that we’re living with a kind of cancer that is actually worse than the physical kind. Any kind of cancer can kill us. You know that, right?

The worst kind is when we let this disease come between us and God. The second worst kind would be when we let it infect our relationships with people.

When I look around me, I see a lot of hurting, bitter, confused, people. (I see a lot of loving and kind people too–especially now.) But when I look inside myself, I see my own particular kinds of pain that kind of carry over from one year to another because that’s what we do with emotions and spiritual dryness. We let them continue when we refuse to deal with them. It’s really hard work to admit we are proud or unforgiving or selfish. But we are. That’s not to dis anyone. I’m pointing most of those fingers at me.

But I also know that we all need to see ourselves the way God sees us. He is well aware of the path we’re taking. He sees the twists and turns long before we do. He knows what we’re going to do and say that is going to make a situation better or worse. He knows our hearts better than we do.

The thing is, cancer of any kind stinks. I can’t describe to you how it feels because I now realize that unless you go through it yourself, you won’t be able to relate. Just like I can’t relate to someone else’s situation or pain because it’s not mine. Anecdotal stories we might tell those who are hurting aren’t what they need to hear. We know that. But we tend to tell them anyway. Now I understand that what we really need is a listening ear who just cares and says, “I love you.” Or “I’m praying for you.”

And that’s what we also need when we are floundering in our emotional or spiritual pain. We need to be honest with God and pour out our hearts to Him if we ever want to move from that spiritual desert to fresh air and living water again. An honest prayer – even just “help me” is the best thing we can do to find spiritual healing.

Emotional healing also needs God’s help. Sometimes it also needs us to seek counsel, just like my physical cancer needs surgery. God did not make us to be isolated. We will not grow and flourish if we remain inside our homes and shut the world out. Life doesn’t work that way. And if you are in a situation where you want it to be just you and your family and no one else, you’re going to eventually implode. We can’t survive without relationships. Good relationships, not toxic ones.

I hope I’m making sense in this winding journal entry. My head has been filled with far too much cancer research and I would much rather be writing Eve’s story. But maybe I needed this time away from her story to help me see how her life really did affect the rest of the human race. Sin. Cancer. Might not look the same, but in their different areas of our lives they have the same outcome. Sin is far more deadly though because it has eternal consequences.

I woke up today a little anxious over tomorrow for the first time since I saw the surgeon. That’s okay. It’s normal to feel that way before surgery. Been there, done that too many times in my life. But God is still good. He saw my fearful (not of dying), anxious (of pain) heart, and sent me several good friends to call or text to tell me they care. They’re praying. I am loved. Wow. That feels better than you can imagine. Then again, I bet you feel that way too.

I’m praying for the best outcome after surgery. I don’t know if I’ll get it, but I ask God for everything anyway. I always have. I can’t imagine not asking Him for the things I need. Sometimes He gives it. Sometimes He doesn’t. Sometimes He says wait. We all know what that feels like.

I hope and pray that each of you reading this will seek Jesus in the middle of your own winding road and emotional, spiritual, or physical needs. Don’t let the struggles in this life keep you from healing. One day the road will straighten and we’ll either be in a beautiful valley or on top of that mountain, on our way to our final destination. I would just plead with everyone to know where their final destination will be. It begins by admitting we need help. We need Jesus.

Be blessed.