Tuesday, May 6, 2014

Silence to Shouting

It seems as though when life is hardest.....words flow fewest.

And that's unfortunate.

Because as C.S. Lewis once penned: 

"Whenever you are fed up with life, start writing: ink is the great cure for all human ills....."


Writing is a type of therapy, it seems.

But this past week..... left me wordless. And where I had words....I lacked the faculties to appropriately convey them.

So forgive me for the long pause. I certainly have a reason for the languish and loss of verse.

Because friends....I know now, that nothing will make you lose it like a lump.

Inundated with pink ribbons, and cancer causes, and 5k's for fundraising - our culture can't say that they didn't know to be watchful for suspicious symptoms of the chest.

So when I found a large, painful mass - I melted. My mind - it's prone to worry. And it's bent is pessimism. Before I ever saw a doctor - I had diagnosed myself with the worst.

And it effected everything. It consumed every thought, it drowned out every other fear, and it laid thick and heavy....for almost a week.

All those things that I had been completely consumed by before - suddenly seemed like pebbles next to an alp.

The tight budget.
The moving.
The home finding.
The husband's long hours.
The homeschooling.
The house showings.

It all waned.

Suddenly....they all seemed like gifts. Not Gibralters.

Because those things aren't real problems. They're just real life.

When the radiologist looked at the ultrasound tech and said "Mondors"....glee crept up from within - because while I didn't know at all what it meant, I knew that word didn't sound anything like the word "cancer".

Praise Jesus.

When she explained to me that I have a rare but non-life threatening condition where the vein clots and bulges.....I basked in the mostly good diagnosis.

And a gratefulness and light settled deep.

And joy sprang up like tulips in Spring.

And then we ate Mexican food :)

Since that day - the world seems different. 

The whole situation was a life-changer. A perspective shifter. A vision caster.

And it's quieted the irritations and groanings of annoyance.

The little mundane tasks of life - have felt like privileges. 

The things I was loathing - I've been loving.

And oh, I hope this light-bulb stays on!

The husband suggested, or commanded rather, that I jot this all down in my journal - as to not forget the moment's feelings. Because they can be fleeting. Slipping back into an uncalled for despair is easy.

Right before he headed back to work after my appointment...walking to his vehicle after downing fajitas....the grand man I married looked back at me and said...

"Build an alter here, Kate."

Build an alter so that you can praise Him in this moment now.....and remember the blessing later.


So these words here....let them be stacked up stones. Let them stand as a marker - to ensure that this new found perspective isn't lost! Let them remind me to rejoice! Let them remind me to look for things I can praise God for...knee-bent and grateful.

Oh Lord, let the site of this altar.....alter.

Certainly - diagnosis don't always hit us with joy. Certainly - the news isn't always happy.

But when it is.....stand back and shout your Hallelujahs at the landmark.