Thursday, August 6, 2009

Profound Moments

Let me first start by giving an update on Alisha's situation. The birth of Irelyn was amazingly easy! She had two good days to recuperate before surgery-not much, but it certainly helped! However, once the doctors performed the surgery, they discovered she had stomach cancer. Stomach cancer, in it's late stages, can be a formidable foe. She started chemotherapy a few days ago. Anyone interested in sending her a little gift or note of encouragement, please let me know! First National Bank also has a fund set up for she and the family, to help off-set the costs associated with being hospitalized and minimizing work hours.

News of Alisha's condition has left me very emotionally raw and drained. I had not been coping with it well at all. I love my cousin like a sister. We spent most of our youth together dreaming about the grand things we would become. So to see her now enduring the new diagnosis and all the pain that goes with it has been emotionally crippling. I even dreamt that I was the one with cancer. In a very specific way, I went from feeling like the world was my oyster to feeling like I was trapped in a small box with a limited air supply and glass walls that let in too much sun. I felt panicked and claustrophobic. I felt like life was coming at me like a full-frontal assault and there was nothing I could do to defend myself.

Today, God impressed something on my heart, in a way only He can. I have been obsessing over the details, as though that in itself would make the cancer shrink away. I was talking on the phone to Dan, and started crying about Alisha's condition. Suddenly what I was saying hit me in a new way, but I figured it was just the emotions of the moment. Later that night, I was leaving work while a torrential rainfall emptied onto the inhabitants of Gainesville. To get to my car, I have to push the crosswalk button and wait, without even a decent shelter nearby should the sky decide to let loose its' bounty. Tonight was no different, and I didn't have my umbrella. As I stood there, I was momentarily agitated with the sensation of getting soaking wet. It certainly wasn't something I volunteered myself for. I could feel every single drop of rain, and each one seemed to magnify my annoyance.
By the time I had crossed the street however, for some reason I resolved that there wasn't a thing I could do to stop the rain, or to keep myself dry from it-short of lurking in a dark alley in the bad part of town. Suddenly I embraced it instead. Not that I ran around in circles in my parking lot, but I stopped being bothered by that which I had no control over. Moreover these pure droplets from the sky seemed invigorating, refreshing, cleansing, renewing; as if they were a confirmation of what God was telling me in that moment.
I realized that it's the same with Alisha's illness. I am very limited in the contributions I can make to guarantee a cure, and while I don't embrace the cancer, I embrace that God is in control of what her future holds. Of course I'm more than happy to contribute what I can and to continually pray for God's peace and healing. However I'm thankful for the reminder that she is squarely in the palm of His loving hands, and that He will do right by His daughter.