Recently, when someone asked about my radiation treatments, they jokingly suggested I might be glowing when I finished. I laughed, and kind of wondered the same thing. Another friend cautioned me that though radiation can be part of a cure for cancer, it’s also sometimes a cause of cancer. What’s the difference?
I did worry when I left the basement lockdown area in the radiation department yesterday that I might expose young children or pets, but a quick scan revealed my radition levels back to normal, and I left in the same hue I came. At least on the outside.
Yesterday, through the course of the day as many of your were praying the prayer that never fails, God was answering. It was his will that I had strength for the treatment, it was his will that I had a little relief from the nausea. As the day wore on, he revealed his will to have friends visit and my dad stay all night to help keep away the nightmares I’ve been having.
Today, I am radiating in his perfect will because I feel encouraged and hopeful again. Not in any new or big way, just for this day. To walk boldly through this trial right now.
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Sometimes it’s hard for me to imagine telling you anything new about my own struggle with cancer because so many of your own lives have been touched by this disease and others like it. This is a story that’s much bigger than me. But perhaps it is the universal nature of the story that draws us together. You can learn from my chapter; I can learn from yours.
This is my new metaphor for cancer. It’s actually an old metaphor I’ve been living in for years. It starts with the idea that our lives are a serial story, already written but revealed chapter by chapter over time. We are not the authors, but we do narrate. And like any unreliable narrator, we often get the facts a little mixed up. (Any good reader could tell you that!)
This metaphor is ringing so true to me right now because it captures all the good things many of you shared about your own metaphorical thoughts. Most good stories include a journey, a race, a fight. We find former glory restored. And we see amazing joy waiting to come.
Cancer has become a more significant part of my plot line now. It’s come and gone before as family and friends have suffered with this disease. Through my life, cancer has become a part of your plot line again, too. But whether this cancer for me is merely a complication or the climax, we’ll only know when we get to the end. Thankfully, the end we’ll only be revealed to us when it’s time.
No one likes to ruin a good story.
On the contrary, you continue to have many new things to tell me about your chapter through cancer. I am learning so much and also gaining such strength in my own faith as I read these particulars about you and what you are experiencing.
I love, love, love the story metaphor. That’s what our lives are: stories.
PS: Thank you for visiting and sharing your happiness with me about Lauren Winner. It was great to see your name and face when I checked the comments — such a surprise, and a welcome one, at that!
Oh, I love that metaphor. I can’t wait to see what happens next in your story. And I’m so thankful that we know it’s ultimately a love story, so it’s going to have a great ending!ht
God is good, ALL of the time. Cling to hope in Him, and never lose your sense of humor. May the joy of the Lord be your strength!
P.S. Reading your post reminded me of some verses from 2 Corinthians 3 and 4. I’ve written a post weaving my reflections in with selections from your post and portions of those chapters. I’m praying for you, and this post is part of my very wordy (sometimes confused) groaning, lamenting and celebrating the faithfulness of God on your behalf:
http://eclexia.wordpress.com/2007/11/11/radiating-with-the-glory-of-god/
Charity, You are radiating, and I (like l.l.) am simultaneously glad and humbled that your story is part of what gives me courage to live out my story. But, I’m also grieving that it has to be that way. I don’t know you; I’m thankful for the joy and encouragement God is giving you in the middle of it, but I still wish this cancer didn’t have to be part of your story. I wish it was, well, I guess, I wish what we know now was already like heaven.
a story. duh! That is so perfect for you. You tell a story so well. It’s so simple that I overthought it! 🙂
You’re in our thoughts and prayers, and here’s hoping you have a great Fall day!
Chills… I have chills of hope and of the sure knowledge of God’s goodness in all things as I read your words, Charity. Thank you so much for sharing your experience with us all. You amaze me. 🙂
Praying for a radiant end to your cancer story.
Miriam
Charity,
So good to see all this as a journey together. I look forward to the time when we’re all together in the new heaven and new earth. But now is the time when we can seek to pray and walk through these hard and troubling times together, in Jesus, and seek to reflect his glory together in “God ways” in this world. We all do need ptayer, but we especially band together to pray for you during this time in your life.
Thanks so much for your contfinued sharing. So glad you were encouraged yesterday.
The radiation afterglow Craver speaks of has reached Colorado, I feel it now.
We love interceeding and hearing reports, keep it up as best as you can.
With all the love and prayer I can muster up,
Carl
A chapter. That’s borderline GENIUS! And with so many of us loving books, why hadn’t I thought of that? (Don’t answer that.)
Now here’s something interesting. I am detecting zero rads, and yet you are causing your readers to glow. Very interesting indeed.
Still praying. 🙂
Nancy — So glad to be sharing the sunshine with you today. What a ministry for you today to sit with grandma. The past few days, friends and family have sat with me on the couch and rubbed my feet for hours. Such a humbling, gospel ministry to me in that moment.
LL — No tears! I am just happy to have a metaphor. And excitingly, some of that cornbread is starting to sound good! (Let’s hear it for the returning appetite!) I do know the pain of the sacred sorrow you are expressing, too. It’s an important part of the story.
Not fair. You’re making me weep just when I’m supposed to be making corn bread. I can’t stand that you are facing this, you know? I can’t stand it for you, and, as you so eloquently point out… it is part of my story now and I can’t stand that either. This is my “sacred sorrow” expressed today, which I trust He will translate to worship, because it’s the truth. It is.
sunny in indy today…i am watching grandma today while grandpa plays golf with peter (my husband, his son) grandma has altzhimers.(never sure of the spelling, sorry) and my 10 year old threw up last night so she is watching tv. cartoons and sipping on club soda. i am almost over my cold…just a little cough left and almost done with the tissues.
glad to see the sun out!
anyway, i want to tell you that you are a wonderful writer! i really enjoy reading your posts.