The experts disagree. Strongly.
“Your case is complex,” one of them told me this week. “I would definitely not follow the advice the other specialist gave you if it were me. But it’s up to you.”
If people who have spent years studying medicine disagree on how to proceed, how on earth am I supposed to decide which expert to “unfollow?”
I cried out to God on my long drive home from the cancer clinic yesterday. I feel overwhelmed, like I have been falling through cracks named “rare” and “exceptional” for too many years. From the time I was born my body chemistry never completely fit the charts that define “norms.” Too much of this, too little of that, and in spite of a life time of funding the diet and exercise industry, I walk around in a model that is, embarrassingly, entirely the wrong size and shape to buy clothes off the rack in fashionable shops for “normal” people.
I saw an oncology dietician today. “Complex,” she said. “Your case is complex.”
When I told a friend in the medical field about my treatment options she said, “It’s certainly complex.”
“I’ve heard that word a lot this week,” I said with a sigh.
Complex. Why is this so complex, Lord? Why is my body so weird? Making a wrong decision on treatment plans could have dire consequences down the road. I know you didn’t make the cancer cells. There’s no aberrant cell division in heaven, so it’s not your plan to have these invaders in me. I know you have a better plan, but I have no idea what to do now. I’m scared.
I’ve been meditating on Psalm 139 in The Passion Translation for some weeks. This is where I am now:
You formed my innermost being, shaping my delicate inside
and my intricate outside,
and wove them all together in my mother’s womb.
Yeah, yeah, that’s nice. Insert stock photo of pretty baby here.
Then I read this. Verse 14:
I thank you, God, for making me so mysteriously complex!
I read it again. And again. And another time.
I thank you, God, for making me so mysteriously complex.
That’s in there? Complex? Seriously?
Be thankful? How can I do that? How can I be thankful for a complex body that mystifies the experts? How can I be thankful when I feel so angry? (Am I allowed to admit that emotions like anxiety and anger sometimes crawl out of the ditch to dog your steps on the faith walk in real time?) Show me how to be thankful, Lord, because I’m not feeling it.
I stopped to take photos on my way home, because that’s one way I worship. Worship shifts my point of view and gets the focus off myself. I choose to focus my camera on trees and mountains and fields instead. I take time to appreciate God’s handiwork because he said was pleased with it himself and worship is about appreciating God and paying attention to the things he appreciates.
The scenery along Highway 22, the Cowboy Trail in Alberta, fascinates me. The road runs through a sparsely populated part of the country where the landscape transitions from prairie to mountains.
High winds provoke ever-changing cloudscapes and patterns of light and shadow on the rolling hills.
Winter blizzards often alternate with warm chinook winds here. The season can change within hours. It’s white. It’s brown. It’s barren. It’s lush. It’s hot. It’s cold. It’s smooth. It’s rugged.
It’s complex.
It’s marvelous.
It’s breathtaking.
David wrote in Psalm 139:
Everything you do is marvelously breathtaking.
It simply amazes me to think about it!
How thoroughly you know me, Lord!
As I edit photos today I hear His voice. If you can appreciate My handiwork in this vast countryside, can you appreciate the way I created your body? I know every cell. Can you trust me to show you what to do to heal it?
The wind picked up as I drove down Highway 22 yesterday. I mean really picked up. My car rocked from side to side from the buffeting force of the gale. I had to grip the steering wheel tightly, and aim it at about one o’clock, or maybe 1:30, to keep going straight toward the mountains that mark the beginning of the narrow opening in the Rocky Mountains called the Crowsnest Pass.
A song I had downloaded on my iPod began to play.
Fear not
If I could say it any louder, I would
Remember all I told you, remember all I said
When the questions start arising, keep your eyes fixed straight ahead
Hold on tightly to the promise, hold firmly to the truth
That I love you, oh I love you.
He’s got his diagnostic finger on that trust issue again. So, in the middle of the buffeting of circumstances I choose to hold on tightly to his promises and trust him and keep my eyes fixed straight ahead. He made me and he loves me. That’s good enough reason to say thank you.
I played the song on repeat as I kept my eyes on the morphing, moving clouds on the horizon.
When life piles up and you’re feeling overcome
Stand still and believe, I won’t let you drown
When a cry’s in your throat, watching all the waves below
Lift your eyes to the sky and trust that I won’t pass you by
Fear not
If I could say it any louder, I would
Fear not!
If I could say it any louder, I would!
Thank you, Lord, for making me mysteriously complex. Your love conquers fear.
Now turn up the bass as Kristene sings.
For I am convinced
that neither death,
nor life,
nor angels,
nor principalities,
nor things present,
nor things to come,
nor powers,
nor height,
nor depth,
nor any other created thing,
will be able to separate us from the love of God,
which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.
(Romans 8:38, 39 NASB)
The height of the abuse of power. The depths of depravity. Neither are a match for love.
He wraps himself in Light, and darkness tries to hide
And trembles at His voice…
How great is our God, sing with me
How great is our God, and all will see
How great, how great is our God.
(-from How Great is our God by Chris Tomlin)
I have come as a light to shine in this dark world so that all who trust in me will no longer wander in darkness. ~Jesus
(John 12:46 The Passion Translation)
Our hearts bubble over as we celebrate the fame
Of your marvelous beauty; bringing bliss to our hearts.
We shout with ecstatic joy over your breakthrough for us.
You’re so kind and tenderhearted to those who don’t deserve it;
And so very patient with people who fail you.
Your love is like a flooding river overflowing its banks with kindness.
God, everyone sees your goodness,
For your tender love is blended into everything you do.
Psalm 145:7-9 TPT)
The mountain, seen dimly through the haze of summer wildfire smoke, is no less solid than the mountain seen in cool crisp detail on a clear spring morning.
The promise of God, seen faintly through the haze of seasonal untamed pain, is no less solid than the promise seen in the clear still glory of His Presence.
Faith knows.
Ye Heavens, how sang they in your courts,
How sang the angelic choir that day,
When from his tomb the imprisoned God,
Like the strong sunrise, broke away?
~Frederick William Faber
When the morning falls on the farthest hill,
I will sing His name, I will praise Him still.
When dark trials come and my heart is filled
With the weight of doubt, I will praise Him still.
For the Lord our God, He is strong to save
From the arms of death, from the deepest grave.
And He gave us life in His perfect will,
And by His good grace, I will praise Him still.
-Fernando Ortega
“For grace to be grace, it must give us things we didn’t know we needed and take us places where we didn’t know we didn’t want to go. As we stumble through the crazily altered landscape of our lives, we find that God is enjoying our attention as never before.”
– Kathleen Norris
Mercy is great, but mercy is not grace. Mercy unhooks whatever barb we have caught ourselves on. Mercy disengages the power of expected consequences that make us pay for our naivety or stupidity or even outright rebellion.
Grace engages the power to become more than our naivety or stupidity or rebellion would allow. Grace empowers us to become something entirely new, entirely different – entirely holy. Grace draws us into the Presence of the Holy where nothing will ever be the same.
Without grace frontiers are formidable walls. With grace we can say with the Psalmist:
For by You I can run upon a troop;
And by my God I can leap over a wall.
(Psalm 18:29)
Charis: Subject to Change 