Dancing With Fear

It’s been a long time since I’ve posted because I’m actually living after surviving chemotherapy. I’ve heard many say they never felt the symptoms of cancer; it’s the treatment that almost killed them. I agree, however, the chemo has given me life, at least for now. The “at least for now” sounds rather cynical, but I’m afraid of calling myself a cancer survivor. I’ve read stories of women who survived breast cancer only to see it resurface with a vengeance.

I just read Elizabeth Edwards book Resilience, thinking I would gain strength from her hope in the midst of several traumatic events, cancer being one of them. Instead, her words felt almost prophetic. Here is a quote from her book…

“The cancer was back. Well, I suppose the doctors would say it had never really gone. I thought the chemo chased it away... But it only chased away the big pieces; the smallest of pieces had stayed, hidden from the scans, too small for imaging: they had stayed and then grown. And now, here it was again, now grown, now in its new home. No longer in my breast, it had spread to my bones, maybe my lungs and maybe my liver. And it wasn’t leaving. Not ever. In that moment when I found out for certain that I would have cancer in me every single day until one day it finally took my life, all the reasons to live and the reasons to die, the way to live if I could, all danced before me, twirling, enticing until I chose a partner from among them. Live. Die. Fight. Curl up. Look for a hug. Give a hug. Cry. Cry. Cry.” Elizabeth Edwards

Though cancer is the obvious comparison, I’ve been thinking about how all of life entices us to choose a "partner from among them.” With Edwards cancer reoccurrence, “live, die, fight, curl up, look for a hug, give a hug, cry, cry, cry” are reasonable dance partners. As believers in Jesus or having faith in God, we have additional partners to choose from (faith, hope, trust, etc…) but we still have to choose who we will dance with and what message we will dance to.

Sometimes I feel a little psychotic because I seem to change partners more often than not. One day, I am dancing with “hope and faith." Then, without notice or because of some small trigger from my past, I will spend the day or days dancing with “fear and doubt”. Today, fear of hidden cancer, sadness from the recent death of a friend and merely trying to stay the course are enticing me to dance with fear.

Thankfully, my job requires me to stay engaged. Being a part of authentic community and believing my life has purpose sent fear back to the wall. It’s amazing how those two things can pull me out of the fetal position. Within five hours, I have changed dance partners again.

If you find yourself being enticed by fear, sometimes you have to walk through it. Ironically, dancing with fear and doubt usually lead to faith and hope. Other times, being with people (get out of the house) and having enough faith to simply do the next right thing will bring renewed hope.

Who are you dancing with today? There’s not a “right” answer to this question. My encouragement is to put words to the feelings rather than falling in a hole wondering why it’s difficult to get through the day. The dance of fear is always waiting to “cut in.” If the lesson is in the fear, walk on. If not, call someone, go out and live what you are passionate about and as always… do the next right thing.

FYI… as God would have it; I met with someone today who has worked in oncology for years. Her advice, “studies show that people who have a positive attitude, have some form of spiritual life and laugh often have a lower reoccurrence rate than those who don’t.” Go figure.
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Does Anybody Hear Her?

For the last three months, most of my days and nights have been in bed. For the most part, my spirits have been good. I have a great support system that not only keep me company but they provide care and nurturing. They listen to me, they hear my fears and walk through the ugliness of chemo with me. They help me with all of the practical things required for daily life and are helping me walk through the ”business” side of being sick. (forms, forms, forms)

So for 90% of the time, I have all I need. Today, the 10% is taking me down. I am tired of being in bed, I feel like a burden on others and I feel like I am going down into an emotional black hole. When I am alone, I feel like a five year old who longs for Mom’s presence just to know I am safe. As a single woman, I am fortunate to have some significant friendships that fill in the spaces but there are still times when I cry out and no one is there. The rest of the world still has to live their life and my cancer doesn’t change that. Yes I know God is always present and always hears my cries. But as real as God’s presence was yesterday, He is equally silent today.

I understand that a good night’s sleep, sitting with friends or simply walking through today’s darkness will usher in another day and most likely the dark cloud will be gone.

However, in the middle of indulging myself in these feelings I have thought about all of the people around me who understand this darkness. For many, it occupies the majority of their life. Do we realize they are there or are we so protected by our Christian friends and Christian activities that we are not listening for their voices? Depression is real and deadly in our culture. People are going down all around us and no one is listening. We spend more time on strategic plans, raising money, following the latest successful church model and arguing over our interpretation of certain passages of scripture than we do looking for the lost sheep that is in danger. If I am to be totally honest, I would be one of the broken and barely functioning, were it not for loving friends and a real grasp of God’s grace (and Lexapro.)

I heard this song last week and it came to me today in my sadness.

Does anybody hear her? Can anybody see?
Or does anybody even know she's going down today
Under the shadow of our steeple
With all the lost and lonely people
Searching for the hope that's tucked away in you and me
Does anybody hear her? Can anybody see?

Today, I am raising my hand saying, it hurts, I’m not sure everything will turn out like the doctor predicts. I am lonely, I want to be well. I am tired of my limitations, surrender is so hard. Does God really have plans for me to “prosper?” I know lots of great people who love the Lord and they are hurting, broken and bankrupt. God never promised a fairytale ending, in fact He is known as the Man of sorrows. He begged God to change the plan at the last minute and God did not. Today, for me, Christianity is not the easy way out. What will bring me through is that tiny bit of faith that allows me to say, “Lord I believe, help me in my unbelief.” I know He will.

Though this blog is a time for me to share my own feelings, more importantly it is a plea to ask you to make a call to someone that you haven’t heard from in a long time or someone you know that could be encouraged by your presence. Look into your own world and have eyes to see the people that are falling down. I challenge you to let them know you hear them. I will be cared for 5 minutes after I hit the send button. It is the person who does not have the blog or the support system or intimate friendships that I stand for today. You will find them “under the shadow of our steeples” hoping that someone can see them.

If you are the one going down today, please make a call or make as many calls as you need to until you find someone that can hear you. Most people do care, we just become self absorbed in our small world about things that don’t really matter. Do not buy into the lie, that you do not matter. Raise your hand with me today and keep calling until someone comes. I am praying for you right now. I know you are out there. Do not lose hope. God’s mercies are new every morning. We can do this a day at a time.

Oh, and by the way, to my Christian friends… it’s probably not the best day to send me Roman’s 8:28.

Loving every one of you as a fellow traveler on the journey.

Connie

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