Monday, June 3, 2013

Some written

No one else can feel it for you
Only you can let it in
No one else, no one else
Can speak the words on your lips
Drench yourself in words unspoken
Live your life with arms wide open
Today is where your book begins

The rest is still unwritten

-Nathasha Bedingfield

Last week Abbi had her Baccalaureate service.  It was really quite nice.  A praise band from our local Woodside Bible Church, a good sermon, and several great performances from some seniors.

I've been having a real struggle with believing that hope is even necessary for my life right now.  It seems like every time I really believe that I am not going to have cancer again, it gets squashed by reality.  Makes hope seem very difficult to maintain.  Makes even faith a little hard to maintain. A friend reminded me that Jesus gets our humanity, and understands our times of despair.  I'm sick of being stuck here.  And I'm ready to get my butt out of the mud.

There are a few things that have struck me the last few weeks.  I've missed a lot of church services because of graduation things or vacation, but God likes to work on me then.  It struck me that my doctors keep saying we will be treating my cancer as a chronic illness- because it's not really going to go anywhere, barring a miracle.  Ok- that sucks and is terrifying.  I spend some time thinking about it and decided maybe I should just call this a chronic illness, not even allow it to have a name.  I haven't decided if that gives service to the cause or not tho.  People need to know my story, so there has to be a name for the illness, right?  

So much reading I have been doing of complementary medicine as well.  Most include leaving home for 6-8 weeks.  Oh won't that make the family happy. (I hope not)  One resource really struck a cord with me and is really challenging me to think more about the other options out there.  But man the $$ is kinda incredible.  It's sickens me even more to know that people have to figure out how to pay for being healthy.  

One of the seniors sang "Unwritten" by Natasha Bedingfield during the ceremony.  I've heard it a thousand times, but listening and watching her sing it made me HEAR it.

I've been saying I feel numb, but really, I am choosing to not feel all this confusion and pain, doubt and anger inside me.  Unfortunately I'm the only one who can give it proper voice- ya know since they're my feelings and all.  I am not sure how to drench myself in words unspoken- I think it's letting each drop of those emotions drench me with all the hurt, so that the truth can be revealed- so I can finally live again, with my arms wide open to new and fun things, as well as open to the serious and bad things on their way.

The unspoken words, falling like rain.  That's why I need to feel it on my skin.  They need to soak in.  Then the unspoken words of healing from God can fall into my soul, my heart, and help me heal.  Help me be whole.

I've written a lot about this. 

But, the rest IS still unwritten.

Perhaps the writing strike is over.  Perhaps I can find joy and beauty again in the every day things.  Perhaps looking at what I have gotten to do, see, say and live for during these 5 years of fighting as gifts instead of the life I deserve will help.

What a gift to be in the study and on the study drug.
What a gift having 2 years of remission once.
What a gift only having to have 3, then 2 treatments during my recurrences.
What a gift that this time I've gotten 5 (maybe more) extra months without chemo because of the study drug.
What a gift to have an exchange student.
What a gift to see my daughter get her licence, have a boyfriend, be able to remain herself during the worst peer pressure moments in life.
What a gift to see my daughter go to prom.
What a gift to see her graduate.

That's a lot of gifts.  Thank you Lord for giving me these 5 years.  I still ask for miraculous healing, but I will do what you have planned for me.  Thank you for loving me, even when I'm a bit sassy and mad.

Vicki