Right now, I cannot even find enough faith to pray for my life. I have not felt like I have the right to ask for God's mercy. "My God, my God, why have you abandoned me?" I think. But, I don't dare utter these words. I have no right; there are so many people in this world far sicker than I am. And my faith is so feeble that I feel like a fair weather friend running to God now that I need Him. I don't want to be a hypocrite- doubting God's ability to intervene in our lives and asking Him to do so now that I am desperate. And so my tears fall as I stand here helpless before God.
Lately, even with my husband present, I feel completely alone. My illness has given me a sense of isolation unlike any I have ever known. Intellectually, I know there are other young adults facing their own mortality, but I don't happen to know any. So, it feels as if no one could possibly understand the mix of emotions that have taken up residence in my heart. While my husband certainly endures the ups and downs of my illness, the fear of being left behind differs vastly from the fear of leaving before I am ready.
And yet, I am not angry. Who is there to be angry at? It's not like any of this is anyone's fault. I could be angry at God, but I don't think He did this to me. I honestly don't believe that has sentenced me to my situation. I hear that everything happens for a reason...and it's all part of God's plan. But right now, I cannot believe that. I just cannot imagine that God is somehow manipulating us like puppets on strings.
Somehow in my mind the corollary to "God didn't do this to me" is that "God can't undo it." It seemed somehow hypocritical to absolve Him of responsibility but assume that he could intervene after the fact. I found that I simply couldn't ask God to take it away. "Why should He relieve my suffering?" I thought, "There are many people suffering far worse fates than I am." I felt that I had no right to ask God to spare me. And so, I never did.
Then it occurred to me one day that even Jesus asked God to take away His fate, His cross. And surely, if Jesus could ask, so could I. After I got the news this morning, I prayed to God and thanked Him for the lessons of my illness. I acknowledged that others were suffering far worse that I and that I had no right to ask, but I asked Him anyway, "Please, make me well again."
Having my three children has predictably intensified my fears of dying. Leaving behind a smart, talented, loving spouse also frightens me. But the thought of leaving my children falls on me on an almost daily basis. More than anything else, I want to live to raise them to adulthood as I cannot imagine negotiating the teen years without a mother.
I realize why the idea of heaven offers no solace. The idea that I could watch my children from heaven, from afar, left me feeling hollow. Tears roll down my cheeks as I try to imagine watching them without being able to hold them, touch them, or wipe away their tears. To me, the thought of being in heaven while I watched the lives of my children play out before me without any ability to intervene or support them is pure torture. I've always loved the idea of reincarnation and I try to imagine how I could be reincarnated in such a way that I could still be a part of my children's lives. Becoming a baby wouldn't work because I couldn't imagine how I could interject myself in their lives and how useful I could be. Then I thought about becoming a dog. It was perfect. Kevin could go to the pound after I died, and I could be there in my new disease-free form. They could take me home, and I would still be there. I would greet them first thing in the mornings. I could lick away their tears. I could still touch them and feel their hands against me. When they needed me, I could insistently force my nose under their hands until they felt compelled to acknowledge my presence. I could protect their home, and become their companion, their friend. I could listen to their troubles. I could be physically there for them until they left their childhood home. The idea of becoming a dog gives me the solace that heaven cannot.
I relate to Gethsemane so much now. I want so much to be relieved of my suffering. I want so much for God to take it away. And, for the first time, I understand the desire for heaven. Well, it's not so much the desire for heaven as it is a willingness and, at times, a desire for an end to my suffering. It takes so much effort to do anything, even to make dinner or play outside with the kids. Breathing has become increasingly difficult and even walks on flat ground tax me. I am physically and emotionally overwhelmed. But, I am not giving up. It is not time for me to raise my white flag and surrender. I still have too much to do here, and I'll be damned if I give up and let go without one hell of a fight.
So, perhaps God finally got my attention, but I still don't know what He wants from me. My disease has brought my body and withered spirit to its knees. I am trying to accept each moment as it comes. I try each day to put one foot in front of the other, regardless of how tired I am.
I do know that I am supposed to be an advocate for lung cancer awareness. I received my packed from LUNGevity in the mail yesterday. I am attending HOPE Summit in Dallas and am very excited for the opportunity to meet people who are just like me. I am also raising money for LUNGevity research for lung cancer. If I reach my goal, they will pay for my trip to the National HOPE Summit in Washington, D.C. where I will be able to give my elevator speech. I am so thrilled to be a part of LUNGevity and everything they stand for. I am fighting to end lung cancer. If you would like to donate to LUNGevity you can do so at http://lungevity.donordrive.com/index.cfmfuseaction=donordrive.participant&participantID=15728. This takes you directly to my fundraising page. Please help me reach my goal of $1500.
Also, we have designed a shirt for all of our prayer warriors! The cost is $20.00. You can order one at https://www.customink.com/g/ysw0-00ad-xnpd.
And of course don't forget to like our page on Facebook www.facebook.com/hope4shanna.
To donate directly to my Go Fund Me www.gofundme.com/hope4shanna.
Love you all, mean it!
Shanna xoxoxo
I want you to stop there, ok look at this angle for me for just a minute if ya will. If you never got.lung cancer would you still be an advocate today? Would you still write the blog that has inspired and touched the lives of others? Would you know the strength you have? God works in mysterious ways. Trust me as far as being the only young adult, no im confirming this as a young mom with cancer. No I didnt share that with you yet. I am 31 and diagnosed 3 years ago. Hang in there you will find out your journeys reasoning when it's time. Keep your head high you are just as deserving of Gods devine intervention as anyone else is, so continue to ask, he will be there the way he needs to. In my prayers until it's over. No-one fights alone!
ReplyDeleteI had no idea you had cancer. My prayers are with you. Thank you Nikki. I needed to read these words. <3
ReplyDeleteI have cancer in my frontal lobe at times effecting my motor skills, this is sadly inoperable but I have to make the best of it. Like you I have 3 children ages 6, 12, 14 and a loving husband with my mom being my best friend. I dont tell many people because then they look at as if I am my illness and I'm not I am Nikki, wife, mother, daughter, sister. Im here for you the nights you need to ramble about how life isn't fair, and why you, and what about the kids, and feeling like a burden to those you love the most. Im here when you feel like there is no point in fighting anymore. Im here when its all just to much but you dont need a pep talk im here whwn you want someone to agree with you that it just plain sucks! Once again no-one fights alone!
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