I enter my retreat zone and immediately
the tension that was wound within me begins to unravel and I feel the call to
prayer. I’ve been restless. I feel God telling me that this is a season
to learn how to really rest in Him, and at the same time I feel an increasing
restlessness. This restlessness crosses
through out many aspects of my life: restless feelings of thinking of my career
again, restless feelings regarding being a demanded upon mom of small kids,
restless feelings about my treatment plan and my chemo plan – its so hard to
put this chemical into my body when I know it is so toxic.
I am antsy. I am
getting bored, I’ll be honest. And I think
this is partly because I feel God prepping something so big within and through
me. My powerful and mighty and awesome
God has a spectacular plan for me.
And right now, in that plan is to learn to
s l o
w
it
d o w n.
To learn to rest. And
it is hard.
Because I am learning that to really rest, to really have
true health in all capacities (spiritual, physical, mental, emotional) so I can rest requires me to open up my fists
that are clenched so tight in control of whatever I can possibly grasp to
control. My husband saw it before I
did. I demand a lot of myself and hence
of others. It is hard to release
this. To open up my fists and cup my
hands to be able to receive. To raise my
arms in true surrender. Oh, it is not
natural.
I want to learn to breathe.
I want to learn the unforced rhythms of grace
I want to be free as Jesus promises.
And I have so much to learn.
So much sin that entangles me that I have to learn how to throw off so I
can run and dance and prance as God intended.
Matthew 19:24New Living Translation (NLT)
24 I’ll say it again—it is
easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich person to
enter the Kingdom of God !”
I’ve been reading Deuteronomy and God warns over and over to
the Israelites that once they enter the promised land not to forget, not to
forget, not to forget what God has done for them. How? Intentionally remembering.
Oh how rich I am.
(And this is not necessarily bad – but does absolutely require
generosity and responsibility of me).
And oh how easily I forget.
I have so much to learn.
And yet the beautiful thing is that this wisdom of Jesus’ is both
unparalleled and it is open to everyone.
In fact, it’s inclusivity is a large part of what defines it.
Cancer has thrust me into ugly places. It has forced me to question and evaluate –
everything. It has searched out my dark
corners, my rotten garbage, and given glorious insight along the way. I am empowered (you had better believe that I
am a cancer SURVIVOR!!!) and at the same
time humbled.
Trust me that I am taking EVERY gift that cancer is giving
me. And trust me, there are indeed
many. I browsed through a book called
“Crazy, Sexy Cancer Survivor.” In this
book the author calls her support, her “posse”, her co-survivors. YOU, are my co-survivors, though I prefer to
call you comrades (as it reflects the battle we are in which I spoke of last
post). None of us ought ever to live in
homes, secluded from those around us. We
are created and meant to live in community.
It’s the only way we can truly survive and thrive. And it is exemplified in the enormity of the
support network I have garnered through YOU my comrades. YOU are supporting me so I am free to learn
how to rest, so I am able to regain all aspects of my health (which I believe
are completely intertwined as purposely designed by our Creator).
I am beginning to write out those who have
blessed me, to publicly acknowledge my comrades. I am abundantly thankful. Yet in initiating this task I am floored by the enormity of the list and realize this is not a simple project. So here again, I am simply brought to reiterate, THANK YOU.
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