Fear and Faith

We are in the middle of an unprecedented attempt to contain, no, to slow the spread of a virus we've never seen before.

There's a lot of information out there - some true, some false, some just plain stupid. I'm not writing about any of that, because I'm not an infectious disease expert. There are a lot of reactions out there that fit those same categories. I'm not writing about any of that, either, because my mama said if you can't say something nice...... Anyway.

There's a notion out there that fear and faith can't coexist. I'm not a Bible scholar, I'm just a human. A real, flawed human. And I'm telling you right now that fear and faith are both very present and very real in my life.

I am afraid of the virus, a little. I am afraid of the longer-term impact of these lifestyle changes on my life and the lives of loved ones, a little more than a little. My fear is, admittedly, guiding some of my choices right now. I am reading as much as I can about what's going on, partly to know more, partly because I can't stop. For me, this is a fearful reaction, but it has good results in that the more we know, the better we can do. I am following CDC recommendations to stay put, and while this an EXCELLENT thing to do, I'll admit that I'm partly doing it out of fear, as well as just common sense.

I guess what I'm saying is, fear can motivate you to do smart things. Just don't let it motivate you to do dumb things - which I'm not even going to get into, just because. (Just, please use your brain, okay? Okay, that's really all I'm going to say there.)

Even in the midst of fear, I know, without doubt, that my God is so so good. I know that even when life is hard and messy and uncertain and downright scary, God is still good. How do I know? Because of faith.

Faith that the God of Heaven promised to watch over and protect me - go read Psalms 91. Now's a good time; I'll wait.

Faith that the Creator of the World made me - and you - and put us right here, right now, for such a time as this. What are you going to do about that?

In the coming days and weeks, as this pandemic likely gets crazier before it calms down, I hope you look for God. Look for ways that He shows up - for you, and through you. Because in times like this, God uses ordinary people to show up and impact lives.

So, find a way to help someone out.

Speak peaceful, comforting words to someone who is letting their fear run rampant. Don't speak more fear into an already fearful situation. (I'm talking to myself here, too!)

Listen to the experts as they try their best to walk us through this, and give some grace when it seems like they're stumbling. In fact, give grace all around - the whole world is struggling to figure this mess out, and there will be missteps that are crystal clear in hindsight. Give grace.

Look for the good, and be the good, in these crazy times.

Because God is good, even if you're scared.

March 9 - Two Years Ago Today

Flashback time: March 9, 2018

I showed up at the Baytown hospital and went to the Breast Center. I got checked in and changed into a fluffy robe and waited in the private waiting area. There was a girl there who I knew from my pre-Luke days of going to workout classes at the gym; she was also there for a diagnostic mammogram. We said hello, but truthfully I probably seemed a little rude because I couldn't really cope with actual conversation due to all the nerves.

It's my turn, and I go back for the mammogram. In case you didn't know, a diagnostic mammogram puts significantly more pressure on the breast than a routine screening mammogram. The harder they squeeze, the more they can see. But, it's not that painful, just more discomfort than anything, and it's over quickly.

Next up, I went to a different room and they used ultrasound to take pictures of both breasts - the lump, the area around the lump, and the other breast for comparison.

After that was done, I went to another room, more of an office with a computer where I could also see the images, to talk to the radiologist.

I will never forget the conversation that day:

Radiologist: "I'm very concerned about this. We need to bring you back in for an ultrasound-guided biopsy, blah blah blah is what to expect with that, do you have any questions?"

Me: "When you say 'very concerned,' what do you mean by that?"

Radiologist, in the most matter of fact voice you can imagine: "Oh, I'm very concerned that this is a breast cancer. So, with the biopsy.... " 

And I then tuned her out: I truly have no idea what she said after that. A bit later, a nurse was sitting down with me (in yet another room) to schedule the biopsy, and I just lost it. I remember this nurse was so kind and patient with me, and that made me cry even more.

Finally, I got myself together enough to go get dressed. I was still crying, but less hysterically and slightly more discreetly. My friend was actually in the dressing rooms, and I could barely even look at her - I sort of mumbled something about good to see you, and I left. The whole way to the car, I was still crying. I got in the car, and I lost control of myself again - the sobs just wouldn't stop.

So, I did what I do when I don't have words. I turned on some praise music. Y'all, those singers and songwriters are unbelievably gifted, and their words have brought me such comfort on so many occasions that I can't even begin to name them.

This day, I turned on YouTube to just listen because at the time I didn't have a single app or account to stream music on demand, just Pandora's random selections, and that wasn't going to cut it. I chose Zach Williams' Fear Is a Liar. I turned it up as loud as it would go, and I sang through my tears as I drove home. I was afraid, but listening to the truth in that song helped me get my head on straight. So I listened to it over and over and over again.

When I got home, both boys were happy to see me, and we were loading up to head to Buffalo for the weekend. I didn't want to talk about it in front of them, especially Jay, because he was (and still is) very perceptive. So it was more than an hour, maybe two, before I could finally tell James what they'd said. It was agonizing having to hold it in for that long, but I think it helped me to be a little calmer when I finally told him - I cried, but I wasn't hysterical like I had been at the doctor's office.

And so, that is the story of March 9. It's also the story of how a certain song can say the words that you aren't yet able to form in your prayers - whether you're too scared, or too broken, or too stuck to get them to come together in any sort of cohesive way. Music is kind of magical like that - it just speaks for you if you'll let it.

Here's the lyric video of Fear Is a Liar, by Zach Williams.

Commitments

Well. I took a little break from writing last week, but thankfully it was nothing like my last break!

What's new: On Thursday, I go back to see Dr. Spiegel for my 3-month post-op appointment. This is the first she's seen me since the OR in December, and I don't have any major concerns, so it should be an easy appointment. I promise to update if there's anything to share!

Besides that, I've realized that my internal commitment to writing daily was... ambitious, ha. So, I'm revising my goal to be once a week minimum, but hopefully 2-3 times. I plan to have something new every Monday, because I know that we all need some goodness to get through Mondays, and hopefully reading this is a little bit of goodness for your life.

Commit your work to the Lord, 

and your plans will be established. 

Proverbs 16:3

This is me, committing my plans to the Lord. To myself and to you, as well, but most importantly, to Him. Because what am I doing, if not pointing you to Him?