I have cancer. I have cells in my body that are growing and multiplying at an alarming rate, eating all the good cells that surround them.
Given enough time, this cancer will kill me. I’m being eaten alive from the inside. Parts of me are eating other parts of me. To my very destruction. At this point I don’t know very much more than this. How long? I have no clue. Stage? No clue. All I know is this:
I have cancer.
Be joyful, when you hear you have cancer? I’m sure it can be done but for now I just have a big gaping hole where my heart used to be.
Psalm 116:7b says “…The Lord has dealt bountifully with you.” This is bountiful? I thought it was supposed to be a good thing, His dealing bountifully with me. I thought the place of His bounty was the place of His blessing. Yet, this feels like a curse. A curse of death.
Which is the very thing He wants. He bids me to come and DIE. While all the time promising me life.
How can I, in the love of all things good,come and die and yet have abundant life?
Blast those cancer cells!
Cancer is defined as: the cells that only benefit themselves. Cancer cells don’t look to benefit any other cell. They look after themselves only. Eating whatever they desire. They take care of themselves and only themselves. Not just taking care of themselves first, as we are told to do now.
They take care of themselves only and only take care of themselves. Wreaking havoc and destruction, bring death everywhere they go.
Now, I’m not talking about physical cancer here, I’m fine. Well I’m not fine, not at all fine. But the cancer is not to my physical body, but is in my soul.
You see, I have a tendency to care for myself. First. And sometimes only. I do what benefits me the most. Above benefiting you.
Is it any wonder I’m broken? I ask you, is it any wonder?
Even as I’m drawing crosses on my wrist to remind me of the greatest Love imaginable. I’m choking on the cancer that is killing me slowly. Even as I’m trying to live cruciform, in the very shape of the cross, arms spread wide open, embracing.
I’m looking out for myself, and I might love you, but only so far as I’m benefited. If I can benefit I’m all about loving you, but if not chances are I’ll skip it.
Cancer. Cancer cells are the only cells that take care of themselves.
I read that line in The Broken Way by Ann Voskamp. And I sobbed as I realized I have cancer of the soul.
It is no coincidence that I read this chapter today. On Monday. The first day of my renewed, “Go MAD Monday”. The day I’m supposed to be looking for others’ needs to meet, I’ve been wrapped up in myself and my own struggles. My sense of not belonging, not being wanted, in the way, abandoned, neglected, abused.
This journey to healing is a difficult one. Most days it’s all I can do to put one foot in front of the other and keep moving. I hope I’m moving forward and not backward, but really I haven’t a clue what I’m doing or if I’m doing it right or if anything is being done. Anything good being done.
Today was a hard day. Full of tears. Tears running silent rivers down my cheeks, and full of fully body-shaking sobs. Sobs that took my breath away and I wondered if I’d ever be able to stop and just breathe again.
And I have cancer of the soul.
In an attempt to salvage part of this hard day, this day of tears and sobs, to combat the cancer of my soul, I took the 14-year old for coffee after her dance class. I bought her coffee. And I bought the coffee for the man in the big white Chevy pick up behind me.
Maybe that was the right thing to do to fight this cancer that is eating my soul. Keeping my focus on myself and my own needs. Maybe, just maybe if I choose to take care of someone else’s needs when mine are so great, maybe, just maybe my healing, my needs will be met.
Maybe that is how I will have peace. And healing. And my focus will be on the right things. And the cancer will be stopped.