Best of Both Worlds

One of the most difficult things to adjust to early in our cancer journey was the juxtaposition of two very different worlds. While we had obviously seen hurting people before, spent time around third world poverty and orphans, been in pain ourselves, the bulk of our life was lived in a relative bubble. The day to day consisted not of abject poverty or pain, but of shuttling kids that have too much to their busy lives that were full of too much. School, homework, sports, activities...busy, busy...joy-less.

Along came cancer.

I had no idea what that meant for our lives...not a clue. It was a completely terrifying world, and in those early weeks...staring death, fear, pain, my faith...directly in the eye...it was like nothing I'd ever faced. And then, to try to figure out how to exist, to do daily life while bouncing back and forth between the world we knew and the world we'd been thrown into...it seemed impossible. It was excruciating. I would drop three happy kids off at school then head to the hospital...going from warm hallways full of healthy, active children to sterile walls covered with pictures of balding kids, many of whom are no longer with us on this earth. It was extremely difficult and it would make me so sad and angry. It was very hard to see "normal" kids when my child was hurting beyond my wildest imagination.

After some time passed though, it did become easier to jump from one life to the other. While the cancer world can be gut-wrenching, there is such beauty in it. It is a stripped down life, bare, revealing only that which truly matters...faith and relationships. When you meet cancer families, no one asks you what you do for a living. No one talks about the sports their kids play or what achievements they have accomplished at school. No one is jockeying for position, keeping up with the Joneses or painting some perfect image of their family. They are weary and broken and too tired to fake anything...and it is freeing. When you are in a battle for your child's life, nothing else matters...your perspective changes, your priorities become clear and many superficial idols are chased away. After recovering from the initial shock and acclimating to this new club that no one wants to join, it does get easier...not only to feel comfortable in the new world, but to become more adept at traveling between two drastically different lives.

One night toward the end of Bailey's treatment, we managed to sneak out to meet some friends who were visiting from out of town. We went to dinner at this trendy little place, dressed up and feeling like "people" again for the first time in a while. We laughed hard, had a glass of wine, managed to stay on happy topics...and then when the evening was over, Patrick dropped me off at the hospital. I made the trek to the cancer floor, hearing the click click of my sassy boots down the quiet, sterile hallways and past those pictures...like some sort of real-time St. Jude commercial. I had both a strange sense of familiarity and also a striking understanding of the contrast. It seemed almost normal, like coming home...and at that point, I fully realized just how much things had changed..how much I had changed. During the first weeks of our journey, the cancer floor felt so foreign and I repeatedly thought to myself, "How did we get here? Really Lord? This is our story? We will never belong in this world." But by the end of our protocol, I was almost as comfortable on the cancer floor as anywhere else...maybe even more so.

And then almost instantly, after eight grueling months in which 50% of our time was spent in the hospital, it was over. Just like that. We were done, released from the prison with very little fanfare and sent out to return to our lives as though nothing had happened. The thing is though, that something did happen. Instead of being healthy, sheltered, naive and relatively blind to childhood cancer, now we are battered and bruised and blistered and bloody. We have scars both inside and out. We have a child who has a prosthetic leg. We have learned of suffering and we have seen horrible things happen to children...and then watched as these kids rebound time after time after time. Children - faced with choices and side effects that would crumble most adults, battling for their lives, missing out on childhood, yet they can still manage to smile. We have wrestled with angels. I have watched my child in pain and not been able to fix it. We have looked our theology square in the face and chosen to believe. We have witnessed the body of Christ in action. We now understand how it looks to be given the grace you need, for time and resources to multiply and for the body of Christ to carry you. There was tremendous heartache, yet blessings flowed. Our eyes had been opened.

And now back in our old world, this one that felt so comfortable before... it now feels a bit off...like a pair of shoes that no longer fit. There are so many reasons why, but most originate from one basic theme...because of what we have walked through, we are seeing things we were unable to see before. We cannot erase the images, the experiences - they are seared into our souls. The other difference is that we will never truly be "done" with cancer. There will be scans and scars and a battle against fear for many years to come. So while we have been thrown back into the old world, truly nothing is as it was.

So how do we live? What is next? I don't have answers yet. The learning curve is steep. I am tempted to run away with the six of us, buy a farm, home-school my kids and completely isolate from the world... though I suspect this is neither a rational solution nor is it necessarily where God is leading us. It was the Refiner's fire that allowed the pain and so I don't really want to jump back in just as life was - because that would mean that all of the hurt and heartache were for nothing. Pain and growth is difficult enough, but pain with no growth seems unbearable.

While there is a part of me that longs for the life that, before cancer, appeared simple....I know that would be a waste of this precious gift. We have been painfully reminded that life is fragile and He already knows the number of our days. We fully grasp that things can change in an instant. We will face fear and faith as each scan approaches...it will force us to be on our knees, focused on Him and living to the fullest in each moment rather than complacently checking off the to-do list...merely existing. No one would choose the pain, but it has made the joy even bigger. It is made our purpose much more clear. We should probably all be living like this anyway, but busy-ness makes it easy to forget and lose sight. No one is guaranteed 80 solid, healthy years...yet many of us live like that time is owed to us. We want to be happy, in control, soak up as much fun as we can, have what we think is our deserved "me" time...rather than truly dying to self and living as we are called. I'm equally as guilty. Sure, we don't voice it with words, but our actions speak volumes.

So, while the selfish and sinful me would prefer easy, I believe my first step needs to be choosing to see this transition - the opening of my eyes to a whole new world, the managing of fear, this figuring out how to live in the after - as a gift...and I think it will be a choice I must make daily. What comes after that? I have no idea. I'm sure there will still be days when I forget what I've learned or I allow my heart to stray to the dark places. But one of the many blessings of cancer is learning to live in the day...and I have seen that when I do that, He faithfully gives me what I need.

So...for today...that's "my" plan. :)

How To Minister To Those Who Are Suffering (Part II)

I wrote a post a few months ago with some helpful hints on how to minster to those who are suffering. Obviously, people receive love differently, so that should always be considered when trying to serve someone. I thought it might be helpful to list a few things that I have noticed, since prior to our current struggle, I had NO idea what to do for people...other than making a meal (not really a strength of mine, but I'd at least attempt to muddle through a dinner or two).  I always felt so useless in that type of situation. That first post, can be found here for those who missed it:

How To Minister to Those Who Are Suffering (Part I) 

As we have marched on in this journey that began over eight long months ago, I continue to learn things that I hope to apply in the future with others who are hurting. It is one of many blessings in our struggle...that instead of feeling completely helpless in the future...maybe I will be better able to love someone well through a crisis. Maybe. I still have a lot to learn. I have also spoken with several others about their recent experiences in suffering and how people could have better ministered to them.

I'm sure there will be more to come, as our journey stretches on and hopefully, as we have some distance from the intense pain, but for now, here are a few additional things...some similar to items on the first list (but they are important enough to list again), others are new:

• If you are the one suffering, allow people to help you.  It seems strange and a bit awkward at first, but it is necessary if you are going through a major crisis. Food, childcare, laundry, cleaning, financial...whatever it may be. People may not know what to do, but most want to help, so don't be afraid to ask for specific needs. We are all gifted differently and there is usually someone who can fill each gap. It is one thing to have people bring you a few meals when a new baby comes home - it is a nice luxury...but when walking through a terrifying and exhausting life event...you cannot survive unless you allow others to relieve some of your burdens.

• I have heard several people mention lately that they didn't know what to do or say when a friend or family member was suffering (for fear of doing the wrong thing), so they did nothing. Do NOT do this. Nothing is perceived by most as either not caring or being too busy to care and neither option is good for the long-term viability of a relationship. Try...even if is it wrong...if you are humble and your motive is sincere...most will perceive it as coming in love and they will appreciate the effort. 

• If you are the sufferer, have a "Magic Box." We had a cooler by our front door - it was faux wicker, so it actually didn't look awful and it became kind of a semi-permanent fixture. Initially I thought it would just be for meals, but people ended up leaving gifts, groceries, goodies...there was always a nice little surprise...yet we didn't have to plan ahead, be home, or find the energy to chat, because I'd fill the cooler with ice in the morning and not have to think about it again for the rest of the day.

•  Touch base every now and then. Some people like to talk on the phone for endless hours, others do not. But everyone appreciates knowing that they are being thought about, prayed for, etc. It can feel very lonely when you are walking through a valley. It seems as though the world is passing you by. It isn't necessary for everyone to suffer along with you, but it is nice to know as they go about their busy and happy lives, that they are invested in yours. Send a text, leave a voice mail, write a note...if the person wants to chat, they will know you are open for it. If they don't, at least they will know you haven't either forgotten about them or are simply too busy to care. If they don't want to chat, don't be offended...sometimes there is no energy left for conversation.

• Little things are sometimes as nice as big things. A friend brought me lunch in the hospital one day. My sister-in-law would bring coffee to the hospital every Saturday morning. One friend took Luke to the beach with them for a few days, another took him to the lake. An acquaintance I scarcely knew prayed so faithfully and always sent texts noting her specific prayers. Another class mom sent beautiful notes and handmade crafts for Bailey to work on...not big things, but they took some thought and effort and were very special. A friend dropped off a loaf of freshly baked bread each week. A few planted flowers in our yard. Some old soccer buddies sent us a grocery gift card. Several dropped off bags of house supplies (paper towels, toilet paper, dish soap, etc.). The list is endless...so many sweet and thoughtful gestures reminding us that we weren't alone and shrinking our "to-do" list.

• Find a need and fill it. Whether it is yard-work, cleaning, carpooling...give some real thought to what would truly be helpful. Keep it simple, don't make it more difficult or a scheduling issue. Just do it.

• Read their updates...Care Pages, Caring Bridge, blogs, whatever! People living the hard every day do not want to replay the events repeatedly each time they run into a friend they haven't seen in a few weeks...especially if it is supposed to be a close friend. They want to know that those who truly say that they care about them, are following along, hurting with them and praying specifically. If you say that you care, but cannot take two minutes from your busy life to actively find out what is going on, then you are either too busy or you don't care. See above about not being good for the long-term viability of a friendship. Actions speak louder than words. If you do truly care...then read, comment, "like" it...and know what is going on. (Hmmm...can you tell how I really feel about this one? Total honesty these days people...no need to sugar-coat it.) 

• Be careful about throwing out too many Bible verses. I hesitate to write this because I don't want it to be perceived incorrectly. I have clung to my Bible and my personal worship time with God...it is the only thing that has gotten me through many days. When people send verses that were special to them during a hard time, or something that God specifically put on their hearts to be shared...that is very kind. But in the darkest moments, sometimes sweeping generalities about how God is good and He'll answer prayer...they just don't help. Again, please don't hear me incorrectly...God's Word is wonderful...just be careful and prayerful about how it is presented.

• Don't look at people with pity. It isn't good or well received. Hugs are nice. "Been thinking about you," is good. "So good to see you," is nice. The tilt of the head and, "Awww..." is not helpful. Pity = bad.

• Have serving stamina...there is usually a rush of love and help out of the gate, then as things drag on or holidays or vacations come, people tend to lose interest or motivation. Many struggles are not short-term and last for weeks, months, maybe even years...people still need love and support - throughout the duration...not just in the beginning. For obvious reasons, many long-term sufferers need more support later..when they are battle-weary.

• If something about watching what a person has gone through or how they have handled it helped you in any way, let that person know. I have gotten a number of notes about how our journey has challenged people to change their priorities, consider their relationship with God, or just asking for our counselor's phone number...that we have had some impact on someone else's life helps to make this valley meaningful...we will not see God's real plan for some time...but in the short-term, it is nice to know that lives have been affected...even in a little ways

So after eight months, that is the remainder of what I've compiled. Should anything else come to mind, there might be a Part III. :) I am certain that I don't have all the answers and I also know that each situation is different...still, I have learned much. People who are desperately hurting need support, don't shut down because you are afraid of doing the wrong thing. One of the greatest blessings of our journey was seeing how everyone rallied around to serve us...it was absolutely beautiful and our hearts were completely overwhelmed. If you were one of these people...thank you.