2019 has been the single most challenging and painful year I've walked through with a breast cancer diagnosis in July only being a part of it. I had many times on my knees at the foot of my bed where I cried in despair to God. I felt lost, alone, powerless, angry, and afraid. I know that I wasn't singled out for misery by God. I know that many of you have experienced much of the same. Today, I only speak for myself.
I want to be as real as is appropriate. I have seethed with anger at God and most recently snapped when I got to a boiling over point. Christians can seethe with rage. Yes, we can. It happened in the parking lot at Walmart (what better place)? I fell apart in the car. I wrestled with the God of my life. I was broken, frayed, and furious. Not, why me? Not even, why? Just, WHEN. WILL. IT. END? I poured out all the beliefs I had about my life, myself, and Him. Never mind, that in some remote place of my brain I knew half of it to be lies. IT FELT TRUE and I had to get it out. If you want a relationship with Christ, then you have to be real with Him. He doesn't care if you're at your work desk, in some reverent posture in the church pew, or in the Walmart parking lot. And, restaurant napkins work just fine when your nose begins to run out of control.
When I was "done" I actually felt better. I did not feel further away from God. I felt closer. Intimately closer. I felt heard and I felt loved. And, I was still somewhat pissed off as well, but that's okay.
As some of you know, I was diagnosed with breast cancer at the end of July and recently just finished my last radiation treatment. I am cancer free. But, it's not over for me. Sure, I am rejoicing and am beyond grateful to God for my healing. But, it's NOT over. As I shared with my oncologist and she shared with me last week, I finally felt validated that indeed, in some ways it's only just begun. My skin is peeling, my immune system has been greatly compromised, and I am left with the scars, tenderness, and results of not one, but two surgeries that have left me disfigured. I will never be the same. As my husband and I talked over dinner the other night, he asked me in what ways I am different and I didn't really have an answer for him. All I know is that I'm not the same. I feel vulnerable and exposed while on the outside looking fine and acting fine. But, I'm not really fine. I have come to the conclusion that it is more than okay for me to admit that. I haven't lost my joy, peace or faith. I have it in abundance and I'm still not fine.
I'm weary of Christians who can't be honest. There. I said it. My whole being desires early church. I yearn for no masks. I don't care about power points, clean carpets, cool stages, and projects. Just give me real people being real. You know why? Because that is how genuine healing happens. Real trust. Real forthcoming. Real connection. Real acceptance. Real growth. I've heard people complain that our churches should not be hospitals or social service institutions? Show me that philosophy in the Bible. You won't be able to. Jesus was a walking church. He healed, fed, and clothed. He shared. He cried. He taught. His pulpit was a boat. A synagogue. A mountain. A cross. Wherever He found Himself. He welcomed children, widows, the poor, mentally ill, contagious, beggars, prostitutes, thieves, adulterers, demon possessed, addicts, gossipers, and liars. He ate with SINNERS. That's ME and YOU. I even think about how He chastened Martha for being worried about things that didn't matter. "But the Lord said to her, 'My dear Martha, you are worried and upset over all these details!' (Luke 10:41) We can be more concerned over storage space in our church building than the meaning of what it is we are actually storing and for whom. We've lost our way. This is NOT to say that organization and nice, and even the spectacular aren't important but when it becomes the priority over PEOPLE and JESUS, it leads to sin. I said the word, "sin." Whatever slim popularity I had is now waning, I know.
And, it all goes along with being authentic and honest.
What is my testimony in the middle of the wilderness? It is that God IS alive and well inside of me. The worse things get, the more my love for Him grows. It sounds fake. I know that. It sounds like I have now put on the best-selling Christian mask but I speak the truth to you. Some day I pray that I can share the full story which isn't remotely over but for now, I share that God is in every cell of my being. He is in every tear shed and every pitiful offering I hand over to Him. He is in the breeze and the sun, the stream and the birds, and the intricacies of a flower. He is in my darkness and on the days when I can't see Him, I still know His presence. He is in the grace I'm able to give and in the aftermath of when I lose it completely. He was with me through every cold and painful procedure in the hospital. I have felt Him hold back fear so that I could walk through. He sits next to me when I am mean, angry and bitter. He comforts me when I am truly humanly alone. He sets my feet upon a rock time and time again at work. When I feel that I just can't, I find myself still moving. I laugh. I have fun. I enjoy people. I love people. I sleep. I am learning and growing. I am stepping out. I appreciate life. I am not afraid to die. I have full confidence of Whose I am.
And, life does still suck at times (and I hate that word but sometimes it just fits). I'm also afraid of the future. Other times I'm not. Sometimes I sob with no sound. That is something new and it's the worst. Walking through the wilderness DOES offer plenty of testimony of who God is. It also offers great opportunity to ask for help. To be real and honest. To help others. To offer compassion. To learn whole new life skills. To prepare for greater. To prepare for worse. To learn humility. To learn about surrender. To see stumbling blocks more quickly. To depend on God more. To obtain greater wisdom.
If we want to heal, feel better, and do better then we have to embrace the training in the wilderness. We have to be authentic with each other and create safe environments for meaningful connection so that we CAN train. Groups of plastic people crying on the inside will stay crying. Trust me.
If you're in the middle of "it" please don't lose heart. You matter. Your voice matters and so does your experience. You have much to offer and much to receive. You have a real story.
"The Lord will guide you continually, giving you water when you are dry and restoring your strength. You will be like a well-watered garden, like an ever-flowing spring." (Isaiah 58:11)
Working in mental health I've heard the saying, "It's okay to not be okay" numerous times. I admit that in certain moments I have silently combated that with, "Get over it, already." (Working in mental health can also mean becoming cynical with a boatload of compassion fatigue). But, I do want to say something to the followers of Jesus out there. IT IS OKAY TO NOT BE OKAY. It doesn't mean you've lost your brain. It doesn't mean you're a wimpy, weak and sad Christian. It doesn't mean your faith isn't strong and alive. And, it doesn't mean that tomorrow won't be better. It's pretty simple. It just means that you're not okay. We don't need any gasps of horror or lightening strikes from the choir loft. But, a "thank you for being honest and now I feel I can be, too" might be in order.
Jesus certainly wasn't a faker so why should the church be? Let it start with us. Glory, Hallelujah, we are a LOVED people!
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