Jumping like Jenna

Hi friends,

Facts first:

We found out today that I have stage 2B of this cancer. "2" means it's not stage one, but also not stage four. "B" means I have symptoms, which I am convinced are unnecessary now since we have a diagnosis and am, therefore, fervently praying will go away. Want to join me in the fight? Pick your battle against night sweats, coughing, weight loss, anemia, fatigue, and general icky-ness.

The great news is that I can expect to see the mass (located in my chest, next to my heart) melt away after as few as two rounds of chemo! A round will consist of two doses, given once a week, every other week. This will continue for 6 months, at which point we expect a complete recovery.

Side effects will probably include hair loss, so I'll finally get an answer to a life-long question: do I have an even head? And I can try out a variety of new hair styles as my locks return. Other side effects should be minimal.

On to the deeper things of my soul:

A few days ago, one of my nieces was told by her dad, "Aunt Ashley is sick. Do you know who heals sick people?" This beautiful little blonde is a problem solver by nature, and it didn't take long for her to develop a solution to this very grown-up problem.
"In the Bible, Jesus heals sick people."
"Yeah, Jenna, he sure does."
"Ok. Let's pray. Jesus, please heal Aunt Ashley... Amen."

The end. It's done. Brush the dust off our hands, get up and go. A long, hard day's work is complete and Jenna is satisfied. Child-like faith, how refreshing.

I'm more of a "prepare for the worst, hope for the best" kind of gal. It works for me, usually. By imagining my worst fear, and watching myself live through it, I conquer it. It's sort-of a manufactured Abraham-and-Isaac moment in my mind. I'm challenged to give the thing I'm loving most to the One who loves me most.

I've cried with a friend during her own Abraham prayers. "Jesus, only you know how much I love my son, but if you want to take him through this illness, I will let him go." Not an easy prayer to pray. Heartbreaking, actually. But this prayer, this preparation for the worst, can lead to a surrender of ourselves. It can make things right in one's soul. It can show us the face of God.

Having said all this, God has been asking Jonathan and I to do something different lately. He's asked us to fight. He's asked us to jump into the deep end of an unfamiliar pool with abandon, to believe that He wants to heal me and that He intends to heal me. No room for doubt. No more preparing for the what-ifs, like I'm trying to fit God for a life vest that will save Him when we start to drown. We might actually rejoice in the journey. We might even have some fun.

So what happens if He doesn't come through? What if the valley I'm asked to walk through is darker than I imagine? I sit with people in my counseling practice that have experienced incredible suffering. Some have jumped but seem to have landed very hard. They feel "uncaught," bruised, and crushed. How do we heal from that? How do we climb out of that pool and (crazy!) jump again? Only by being in the presence of Jesus, because believe it or not, many have met a bruised and crushed Jesus at the bottom too. Many have found everything they ever longed for as they see Him restored to life.

Jenna jumped, but of course, she hasn't seen many falls. God is asking me to jump and I've seen a few more. It feels like He's taking away all of my efforts at self-protection, leaving me completely vulnerable in His presence. It's a good place to be.

It's not our responsibility to bail God out of a pit of our own expectations. We aren't really supposed to make sense of suffering, because we can't, although I'm sure we will continue to try. We are invited to be with Him, no matter what, to just keep being with Him...and if you've ever been with Him, you know that makes jumping so very worth it!

I'll leave you with a song, shared with me by a friend and on repeat in my iTunes library. Whether you are in an Abraham moment, or being asked to jump, I hope it encourages you.
If You Ask Me To, by Ginny Owens

"The one who formed you says, 'Do not be afraid, for I have ransomed you. I have called you by name. You are mine. When you go through deep waters, I will be with you. When you go through rivers of difficulty, you will not drown. When you walk through the fire of oppression, you will not be burned up; the flames will not consume you. For I am the LORD, your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior'" 
-Isaiah 43:2-3