Bittersweet

Do I really have cancer?  Doesn't my life right now consist of Thanksgiving activities, planning for Christmas, visits with friends, getting ready for my birthdayyy (next month, and as Lizzie Douglas always told us, "It's not your birthday, it's your birth month.") and an inordinate amount of baking ... other shenanigans? 

Yes.  Life does look like that.  But not just like that.  There's chemo treatments, recovery period, lots of sleeping, excessive eating [oh, that's not different because of cancer?  yea, you're right. dagger. ] and then doing it all over again in two weeks.  I feel like I'm busy trying to fit in what I want to be doing in the time left.  Family, friends, remembering anything for longer than a few moments. 

It's just odd.  Just odd when I step back sometimes and think, "Wow.  I have cancer."  Even though I feel like cancer is so prevalent these days...I think we all know someone who's been affected by it, everybody we know has a loved one who's had/has cancer.  It's still weird, maybe one of those things I thought I'd never be affected by...not personally at least.

I'm reading a good book these days, called Bittersweet by Shauna Niequist.  It was gifted to me by a great friend (thanks Elise!...shameless plug photo of her at one of her IntoHymn concerts while she was at JMU, and you can see everyones fav Erica, too!)

 I've had to start the book over this week on account of my poor memory and I had forgotten everything that had happened, so we're on round 2, but it's great..again!  The tagline for the book reads, "thoughts on change, grace and learning the hard way."  Perfect.  I think that describes my stage in life pretty darn well.  I'm learning the hard way a lot these days.  A lot about myself, how I react to change, how I react to myself, my own thoughts...and it's an uphill climb.  Ha, I think I just described everybodys experience, ever.  Aren't we all always in a constant state of change and difference in life?  Mine just happens to be something I never thought I'd go through and never have to deal with.  But like Shauna says, (and she says a lot I'll be quoting in the future) "I believe that suffering is part of the narrative, and that nothing really good gets built when everything's easy," and also "change is not a function of life's cruelty but instead a function of God's graciousness."  I believe that.  How am I supposed to learn about myself except if my status quo is changed?  And I want to be challenged, I want to be stretched, remolded and to go beyond what I'm currently capable.  I think we all do.  But to do that, we have to be comfortable with the unknown.  Which is an uncomfortable feeling, most of the time.  Hmm.  I smell trouble.  Which is where I find myself these days.  Dissatisfied with my current situation...and I know what's in store!  (at least for the most part.) No matter how unpleasant it can all be, all the chemo, all the recovering, all the stretching, all the molding, it's how I react to it all that really molds me.  And I'm a little moldy these days ;)  I'm not the most pleasant person to be around, my temper is shorter, and I'm more prone to depressive states.  It's a fight, y'all...and I have thoughts on it.  You've heard of Charlie, aka Ninny.

Ninny and our nephew Mason, ready for the season with his jammies!

Well, little Ninny has had a cone of shame on since we adopted him, back in April.  Sidenote, we just found out last week that he does have allergies-yay! and boo.  But at least he's not crazy. Shoot, at least I'm not crazy. (oh, the jury's still out on that?) So the cone is on a little longer, as we get him used to his new drugs so he won't scratch himself to death.  So this little kitty has had to wear a plastic accessory which hinders his ability to eat, sleep, run...hahaha you should see him run down the hallway, reminds me of dizzybat game on Rodeo night at Young Life Camp, or a completely drunken college experience.  He swerves and trips with the best of them.  But he doesn't complain.  No protests, just love.  He's still the cuddliest, friendliest little feline.  He's even adapted and sleeps cone-down sometimes.  It's almost as if he says, "I know you're trying your best, I'll just wait here until you know what's wrong with me."  Charlie deals with his cone better than I deal with chemo.  I've been outdone by my cat.  

Maybe God allowed little Charlie to wander out of the woods into our lives to teach me something right now.  To show me that we're all hindered by something, whether lifelong or for a season.  And yet, it doesn't have to stop life.  Rather, in different ways it can season it, sprinkle it with change and challenges.  And like Shauna says in her book, "when life is sweet, say thank you and celebrate.  And when life is bitter, say thank you and grow."