It has been a month and 11 days since my diagnosis of breast cancer swept the rug right out from underneath me. There is a song lyric that says something like, “we are all a phone call from our knees.” In my 49 years+ 9 months of living, I’ve received a few of those phone calls. This one though, has had quite a different lasting effect.

I find I am often guilty of deflecting the answer to the question, “How are you?” This situation has really challenged me to be honest about it.

Seriously, is that not the hardest question to answer anyway?? We ask each other it so casually. We say it to strangers at the grocery store or to co-workers as we walk past them in a hallway.

We say, “I’m good, how are you” and keep walking without a pause in our step.

We say, “Living the dream”, “hunkey dorey”, or “hanging in there.”

But do we answer the question honestly? Do we answer the question, period?

I’ve got a knack for turning the table onto the other person to get them to talk about themselves instead of answering it. I’ve gotten good at giving enough information through an answer to satisfy a person that I know truly cares without really, truly answering the question at the same time.

What can I say? It’s a life skill I’ve picked up along the way as a caregiver.

Sometimes, what answers the question has everything to do with how someone I care about is doing. For example, when my best friend was in her final months of life if you asked me how I was doing my response would probably have something to do with how she was doing.

But that is not about me; it is about her.

See how I masked it though? You could, therefore, easily insert your perspective or opinion of how that would make me feel, but I was not actually the one verbalizing the answer to how I am.

You could rightly assume from what I shared in those days that I was sad, scared, angry, etc… And I was probably all those things except for being the person owning the feelings verbally and honestly.

For the millionth time since February 4, I wish I could talk to her and tell her how I feel… because I imagine it was how she had felt at her diagnosis and the waiting time before treatment started. I could not understand it then, but she sure could have understood me now.

If only.

So, in case you have not noticed, I feel compelled to write about my feelings before I carry on with more details (or distractions) that answer (or do not answer) the question, “How am I?”

As a person who is open to vulnerability and transparency, I seem to attract people to me to tell me their stories. I hear stories of success sometimes, but mostly it’s their stories of suffering, grief, and loss. I’m a magnet for these stories…or I’m a magnet that pulls those stories out from within. I’m not afraid of hearing others trauma, life experiences, hurts, habits, or hang ups. As a nurse, I’m conditioned to not become queasy about the “gory” details of illnesses or the dying process. Tears and crying does not make me uncomfortable in your presence.

To be able to do this has made me a really good nurse for almost 30 years. To be able to do this has equipped me to facilitate our church’s GriefShare program for the better part of the last 15 years. Using all of that, the Holy Spirit shaped me into a pastor that is welcomed into intimate spaces of hurt, love, and loss where I am humbly allowed to offer comfort.

But to receive it?? Yeah, that’s a different story.

“O God, you have taught me from my earliest childhood, and I constantly tell others about the wonderful things you do…Your righteousness, O God, reaches to the highest heavens. You have done such wonderful things. Who can compare with you? You have allowed me to suffer much hardship, but you will restore me to life again and lift me up from the depths of the earth” – Psalm 71: 17, 19-20

This scripture fascinates me with the tension laid within the verses… “You have taught me”, “I tell others of You”, “You have done wonderful things”, “who can compare with You”, “You have allowed me to suffer…”; You will restore.

The psalmist says it all at the same time: You are good and I can’t wait to tell others of You and there is no one else like You, yet You allow me to suffer.

Hmmph.

In the wilderness, God has shown through scripture how He provides. As previously mentioned, Hagar was evicted from the presence and protection of the family who had forced her to be a co-parent with Abraham.

Abraham packed her and his son Ishmael a bag of minimal supplies and told them to leave.

She left and prepared herself for her death. What she could not bear, though, was to watch her child die.

“When the water in the skin was gone, she put the boy under one of the bushes. Then she went off and sat down about a bowshot away, for she thought, “I cannot watch the boy die.” And as she sat there, she began to sob” -Genesis 21:15-16.

Prior to this event, she had fled into the wilderness to escape the abuse laid upon her by Abraham’s wife, Sarah. For those who don’t know: it was Sarah’s idea for Abraham to “lie with her servant Hagar” in order to micromanage a way for them to have a baby on their timeline instead of God’s. When her plan worked, Sarah got jealous and mean toward Hagar. God approached Hagar when she fled and she named Him El Roi– the God Who Sees Me.

And now we are back in the wilderness once again with Hagar who is left die…with the child that God had made a promise to her about:

“You are now pregnant and you will give birth to a son. You shall name him Ishmael, for the Lord has heard of your misery” -Genesis 16:11.

What did she think about El Roi now? Did she think of Him at all?

*She did what had been expected of her and was obedient to God when He approached her and spoke to her: she returned to Sarah and submitted to her authority.

*She gave birth to a son and named him Ishmael as she was instructed.

*She stayed where she had been planted.

And now she is cast out?? With her son? Because Isaac is the chosen child God planned for?? She did “all the things” and still this has happened?

Yes.

God’s plans do not always make sense to us, do they? It would be easy to say He does not care, is not loving, is not sovereign, does not see me in those hard times of confusion, pain, suffering, sickness, dreams being shattered…

We may think~

HOW is this happening?

Are You STILL good?

Are You STILL there?

Do You SEE me at all anymore???

Have I slipped through Your fingers??

You said there was a plan for me…is this IT? Or did it already get played out and now I’m done?

Has something or someone better come along and I’m no longer needed?

I’ve done what You asked of me, even when I didn’t want to or it was super hard, and still this happens?

How MUCH more suffering is going to happen before it’s all over?

The echo of El Roi had to be in her head. But it must have felt like a distant memory or maybe even a wisp of a dream imagined…

How am I, you’ve often asked?

Well…

I KNOW God is good. I KNOW that He sees me. I KNOW that He loves me. I also know that He is allowing this… but I do not know why… why now… why this way.

And that hurts.

I do not feel flattered that a “tough battle has been given to a tough soldier.” I do not feel better for knowing I “won’t be given more than I can handle.” I am not encouraged by statements of “you are strong so you can do this” as if my strength is enough.

I am no different than anyone. I am no more special. I am not unlike Hagar- the product of my environment and upbringing who learned to adapt and listen to the counsel of the Lord even when it meant doing hard things or going places I did not want to go.

And, on February 10, I was cast out from what I knew as safe, comfort, and home. I took what I had been given through learning by experiences… and watched as that ran out because it wasn’t enough to sustain me. I took what I used to know.. and then sat down, prepared to watch a dream die.

Fairly morbid, eh?

Somewhere along this long road of life I’ve come to believe that my feelings are dramatic. Mine.. not yours. You are fine in what you feel and what you share. Me, on the other hand, no: I’m being dramatic.

Why share when that is how I believe I will be received?

Oh Amy… insert eye roll. It’s not THAT BAD.

Well…yeah. Maybe it is.

Am I angry that I have cancer? I don’t FEEL angry…you know the “heat rising, heart pumping, fist shaking” rage. That is not there.

What I feel is this deep sadness. And THAT makes me angry.

I don’t know if that makes sense.

I do not wish to say, “*&^% cancer” while tossing up a single finger salute. Instead, I want to weep over it.

I think of what has happened and what is to come and I’m nervous because I don’t know what I will look like (emotionally or physically) at the end of it all. That makes me sad.

I think of all those diagnosed who have not been as fortunate as I am to be put into a system where my treatment and healing can happen at a fairly quick pace and I feel bad; guilty even.

I see my husband’s face and it breaks my heart knowing something in me has made him so scared.

I fear that my children will be affected by this in ways that they shut down, shut me out, refuse to allow it to impact them and insist on surface living without searching for deeper meanings, or will turn away from God completely because of a false belief that “a good God wouldn’t do this” so why follow Him. I can’t control their responses, how this has or has not hurt them, or protect them from how they need to process their life journey’s. That makes me sad.

I’ve been told I’ll “be alright”, but the reality is that there are no promises that I can make that I am able to keep so I cannot give an assurance that “alright” looks the same as I have always been.

In the middle of Hagar’s despair, God approached her again.

An angel of God called to Hagar from heaven, “What is the matter, Hagar? Do not be afraid; God has heard the boy crying as he lies there. Lift the boy up and take him by his hand, for I will make him into a great nation” – Genesis 21:17-18

The first thing that stands out to me is that God starts with her deepest need: her worry for her child. Forgive me for this inflection, but I also interpret this as her worry for her future… the dream for the future she believed to be gone although it had been previously promised to her through her son.

Children are our future, proof that life goes on after us, but our future is not all about them. We have dreams. We have ambitions. We have legacies to leave behind. We have goals to accomplish.

My future is not only about my children or if I’ve even had children. My future is about what I will do with this life given to me. My future is based on my choices. Sometimes my/our children finish out what we started, but those are their choices to make. My future is not determined by them.

So, yes, God gave Hagar the promise for Ishmael’s life, but I think it was directed toward Hagar’s life as well. He was reminding her through a promise over Ishmael that He is still El Roi– the God who sees HER.

In the wilderness, I am reminded that I DO have a future. I do have pertinence. I have done things that have mattered. Do you realize how important that is when someone has been given a diagnosis that has a horrific reputation of being life ending?? Future robbing?? It is essential in all times of our lives, but it has become like AIR IN MY LUNGS lately.

Other than El Roi, another name of God I have always been drawn to is Jehovah Jirah: God as Provider.

When God provides biblically, it rarely happened in ways a person probably thought it should or when they thought it should.

I’m instantly reminded of Jesus at the wedding in Cana. The wine just about ran out before He intervened. A crisis was averted at almost the last minute. How about Lazarus? He actually died and was buried before Jesus came on the scene to resurrect Him. A blind man was born blind and lived for decades prior to being healed. Lepers had leprosy and were exiled first. The woman who was healed by touching the hem of Jesus’s cloak bled for twelve years prior to their encounter.

Many suffered long before His ministry started.

Fearing for their lives, the Israelites were blocked by the Egyptians in front of them and the Red Sea behind. When they thought they would surely perish God allowed Moses to part it. They were deathly afraid first.

In their wandering for forty years, God let the people be hungry before He provided them manna from heaven. He gave them enough for one day only except for the Sabbath day. Every other day, if they collected extra it would spoil except for the Sabbath day where He taught them to trust Him as they rested.

Elijah was isolated for three years during a famine from a drought he had prophesied for beside a brook that should not have been there since there was no rain and brought food daily by ravens that were characteristically considered “unclean” as well ask being known to be without consistent behavior patterns such as returning daily to the same place.

God provided.

He is rarely early, but is never late.

He provided in the way He knew would make an impact on His people. He knew how to build their trust. He knows how to build our trust too.

So, God has provided for me as well. It has been my choice whether I want to see His hand or not though. To trust that I am SEEN by El Roi and PROVIDED for by Jehovah Jirah.

I choose to look for Him as I realize He is my lifeline in all this.

I have received so many texts from people telling me how much I have meant to them over the years. I have been reminded of times where the Lord brought us together and His good came through that encounter. The moments these text come through are at just the right time. Hearing an “I love you, Amy; I remember when you did such-and-such when you didn’t have to” has brought me to tears often.

I had a really, super hard day unbeknownst to friend of mine, yet on that very day she had flowers delivered to me. On the exact day where my struggles had peaked I received a gift that instantly lifted my spirits. When I thanked her and asked her, “How did you know TODAY is when I needed this?” She said she didn’t, but that I was on her mind and she remembered I had said I loved tulips. She remembered that??? Only God.

I’ve received cards in the mail so randomly with different messages written into them from a wide range of people that I have come to know over the years. Each one has been a gift.

“Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows” – James 1:17

A devotional book was gifted to me with the promise that the giver was going to pray and read the same book “with” me- knowing full well we would be doing it at different times from each other but trusted that the Spirit would still unite us in it. I FEEL her prayers.

I’ve worried so much about my future and what I have dreams to do; to accomplish. I have been given the assurance from God that I am a pastor. I am a person to preach His Good News. I’ve waited for a long time to have that confidence of who I am in the Lord. I felt the Spirit guiding me to take steps toward that future and was given multiple opportunities to preach from different pulpits in the next few months. And then THIS pothole (as my aunt called it) happened…

I am finally excited and ready to step toward the specific dream that the Lord has put inside of me and now CANCER??? Are you KIDDING me!

But remember: Jehovah Jirah. The Lord provides.

I said to my pastor as I cried, “Please don’t tell me I can’t do it! But I’m so scared I won’t be able to either!!” His response was profound when he said: “WAIT. Don’t quit on anything you’ve committed to. Let’s just wait and see.”

So far, all but one opportunity I am able to keep. Praise the Lord!

Side note: when these opportunities fell into my lap, I got all excited. I was so excited that I was preparing to write an email to another pastor to announce to him that I was “willing and able to cover for him” if he needed me to and was going to offer him some dates IN APRIL or JULY. As I wrote that email, I felt compelled to stop. To not be too eager or confident. To be thankful for the opportunities I had scheduled without getting ahead of the Lord to create more because it was what “I” wanted. I deleted the email. Guess when the surgery has now been scheduled for? April 16. Praise the Lord I listened and did not overextend myself!

I have had the right people cross my path at the right time in these few weeks since my diagnosis. People who have given me great advice exactly when I needed, are directly involved with my medical care but that I do not often overlap schedules with, who could give a hug or offer assistance in ways I never thought I would need are all those used by God in the middle of this difficult period of time.

“Then God opened her (Hagar) eyes and she saw a well of water. So she went and filled the skin with water and gave the boy a drink”- Genesis 17:19

God OPENED HER EYES to SEE the well… the provision… the hope for her future.

While she sat there crying and hopeless, a WELL was right there. She simply could not see it in her despair.

How easy it is to NOT see hope. To not see that God is right there. Still working. Still providing.

When I focused on me, which is hard not to be these days, I do not SEE the One Who Sees Me: El Roi.

But He continues to open my eyes to see the well He is providing as He did with Hagar. My well, what brings me hope, is personal to me because I am known to my Savior. What He reveals to you is personal to you.

What she needed was physical water…a basic need to literally survive. She also needed her eyes open to see it was already there waiting for her. Next, she needed to get up and fill her cup with it before she shared it with her son.

My role in all this is to SEE what God is providing and then be a participant in what He is offering.

Do I listen to Him or tune Him out? Do I obey what He desires for me to do or do I take my own path? Do I trust Him and follow Him even when I do not know exactly where we are going or do I stay seated looking down at my circumstances?

Hagar got up and her future was secured.

Is it the future she dreamed of? Probably not. Does that make it bad for her? Absolutely not. Her future was tied to her son and he LIVED to become a leader as God had promised.

Is my future the future I dreamed of? Probably not considering this crazy left turn I have suddenly detoured onto. Does that make it bad for me? Absolutely not. MY future is tied to Jesus Christ, my Savior- not my accomplishments, not my health, not my opportunities. And He LIVES as the Messiah God promised He would be.

Some days I stay in bed and cry.

Some days I get out of bed and am incredibly encouraged.

Some days I am crushed with anxiety and have insomnia.

Some days I feel calm, hopeful, purposeful.

That’s life with cancer I suppose. That’s life with a primary illness called Crohn’s while living with cancer.

That’s life for most people, I guess.

My prayer is that my eyes stay open to see the well provided for me.