Sometimes we're weak.
Sometimes we're strong when we feel weak (2 Corinthians 12:10).
And sometimes we're just us. Weak, strong, healthy, sick, and everything in between.
A little while ago Ryan had his scans done. A three day scan to be exact. Three days. If that doesn't sound intense, well, I don't know what does. Except maybe the past 4 months of our lives. What seems like an eternity.
And yet, we live in the in-between. Ryan's body is currently Schrödinger's cat, both riddled with cancer, and simultaneously, cancer-free. Until scan results (and an oncologist) proves otherwise, he is both. A conundrum.
As a wife, this does many things to your brain. Mostly, it breaks it.
Your brain that is. Not your spirit. Your spirit isn't allowed to break. It reigns strong. It always will. A warrior, yet still fragile. Sometimes I wonder how the two can co-exist.
Fragile. It's such a funny word, For me it conjures up images of weak, struggling individuals, those unable to care for their own needs, but still fighting for everything they can. But now, I see fragments of my future knowledge. A new reality.
Fragile now means something different. An awareness of one's ability to be broken, capability of shattering at a moment's notice. Regardless of age, monetary or social status, or anything related to our worldly lives. We can all be fragile.
This is new territory for me. Especially living in the in-between. I like knowing. I can deal with bad odds and cray cray. I do well, thrive even, in the face of not great situations. I was born to live in Vegas yo, I can beat the odds any day. But I do not do well in the midst of confusion. The unknown throws me into a tailspin. It makes me fragile.
Everyone keeps saying how well I am doing. As if they're surprised. I'm not insulted, I know it's not because of me, it's because I think everyone empathizes, putting themselves into that place. The place where they imagine if their love, their world, was told they have cancer, and then they conjure up how they would react. And that conjecture places them mentally in utter chaos, because, who wouldn't go temporarily insane if they thought their other half was in dire peril. But that isn't the case, at least not the mental state part. Because if you go through this (which I truly hope you never do), what you realize quickly is that you don't have the freedom, the luxury, of worrying about what is going to happen. Instead, you realize you must focus on the now. The now of your love facing an unknown future, your home, your children, your dreams of of the next 30, 40, 50 years are currently in flux. And that means you don't have time to collapse. You don't have time to be weak and stay in bed for five thousand hours.
You HAVE to be strong. There is no out here. That's not a thing. You don't get that. So when people say "How can you be doing so well?" I want to explain, but I don't know how... it's not a choice, it's a necessity.
I am fragile. Some days, everything within me feels like it will break, shatter into a million pieces, at a moment's notice. But I am strong. Because I choose that.
Don't get me wrong. I am still fragile. So is Ryan. But we have two babies. We have a home and responsibilities and careers. We have family and friends. We don't have the freedom to just collapse and act like our world is over. Even if some days
And you wouldn't either, even if you feel like that's what you would do. You wouldn't. Because you're strong too. Stronger than you ever knew, and hopefully, you won't have to discover that anytime soon.
But mostly, we are strong when we are fragile, when we are weak, because we have courage, in a God, who we know doesn't stop fighting for us.
So, as we look to Sunday, a day of new beginnings and everlasting hope, we are renewed. Faith in a Savior who conquered the grave. A God who loves us, and a purpose outside of ourselves. That is how I choose to enter this Easter season.
We trust a God bigger than it all. No grave can hold us. Definitely not Schrödinger's cat.
No comments:
Post a Comment