i hope its not for a long time.
i dont plan on it being for a long time.
but when i do; i have a question for you.
"WHY"?
and i hope its not the same response i always give people when im asked that very same thing; which is, "why not"?
because i dont get it. i really dont.
and i try to make sense out of things.
but i cant.
i know that if i were you; id do things a lot differently.
so think about my question.
because you better have a good answer.
Posts
3 comments:
doesn't it suck when there are no answers. and all you want is for someone to put their hand on your shoulder and explain it to you in a gentle and compassionate way?
sometimes life throws such punches at you for no apparent reason. and the only thing we can do, i guess, is be a cliche and live each day like it's our last. because really, you just never freaking know.
xoxoxoxoo
Lori,
I wish I could answer that question for you. Though, maybe I can pass on to you a teeny bit of how I dealt with the very same question in my life for many, many years in hopes something might encourage you. But, honestly, after reading some of your blog, I almost want to quit now because you seem to be dealing with it in a very healthy manner.
A quick rundown of my stuff: my father died of cancer when I was 13-years old. He lasted three months after the diagnosis. My mother did the best she could with us, but between her grief, her (formerly) critical spirit and a host of family friends that abandoned us, my teen years were a whirling mass of confusion and pain. I muddled my way through with a faith (albeit, a misinformed faith) in God.
During senior year in high school major depression hit me, but I did not know what it was. So, I suffered for nearly 20 years with it before identifying it and seeking treatment.
Seven years ago, my wife lost our fourth baby and at the same time was diagnosed with very aggressive breast cancer (you can read the whole story here if you're interested). While fighting that, the company I was working for shutdown the plant I was working in and we lost our insurance. Somehow we survived. I don’t know what the doctor did with the cost of the chemo drugs. He just kept treating my wife. There is another significant difficulty that occurred during this time that I cannot share, but it cost us dearly, both financially and socially.
{Enter more stuff here about a friend dying, two company closings, my own hospitalization and long recovery, and my two chronic illnesses} :)
Twenty years ago, I rejected the thought of a Creator of any sort and Intelligent Design, let alone a personal God. And I spent years resisting the thought of any of that because I don't want a crutch. Yet, after years of contemplating, studying, dabbling, etc., I have come to the point where I do believe and I draw a lot of strength from that. Out of all that has come these beliefs that are relevant here:
a) We live in a fallen world. Thus, disease of heart, mind, body are part of our experience. As much as I wish it were different life is hard and illness, disease, etc., are part of it.
b) This realization and acceptance of it helped me to put the idea of a Creator into a different perspective. No longer did I expect the Creator Thing to make things better. Things just are. Sucks, but I have found peace with that.
c) Our Benevolent Creator is with us through the tough times. Could this Creator take this all away? Sure. But, I'm not sure that is what this Life is for.
A month ago, a man who had become like a father to me died after 2 months of illness. Bob had a great view of things: he knew he was going to a better place, a place of joy, a place where peace would reign and where pain, fear, striving, anxiety would all be gone. So, he instructed his wife to cremate him, scatter his ashes over their ranch by herself (just the two of them, so to speak) and throw a party celebrating Bob's new home. He really wanted us to be happy he was out of pain. We still miss him. But, we find peace in knowing He was completely at peace with what came his way.
I hope what I have written here does not offend you. I hope that if your beliefs are dissimilar to mine you can see the heart from which I write and know that there is another person out here whose heart goes out to you.
Fighting cancer is a bitch and I’m sorry you have been waging this war for so long. But, damn you have an amazing amount of strength. Keep it up!
Signed: Going Out on a Limb
-Chris
I love you Lori.
I just do.
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