Now, Then, and After Then

In the midst of a world that continues to feel like it has been rocked to its core--personally, nationally, politically--it feels like I have a limited capacity to think about things. And very few answers. A few weeks ago I read Kate Bowler's "Everything Happens for a Reason:  And Other Lies I've Loved" and she nailed it for me:

"I am stuck in present tense. With a scan around each corner I have lost the ability to make extended plans; to reach into the future and speak its language. I have lost the rhythm of anticipating the seasons."

Living life in 8-week increments has allowed us several cycles of chemo holiday, but the clock starts ticking again the minute we walk out of MD Anderson. I am thankful for every 8-week holiday--as I should be--but it does not mute the incessant ticking of the clock. The odd part of all of this is that every person on earth is living in the shadow of the ticking clock. But it has taken cancer to take the clock off of mute and raise it to awareness every day.

And while I feel mostly stuck in "present tense" as Bowler describes, I battle with a strong desire to look ahead to try to at least be able to imagine some semblance of a hopeful, longer-term future. Right now I feel like I can work within a framework of three seasons of life to consider: Now, Then, and After Then.

Now is when Carmen is feeling pretty good with few limitations--no chemo (at least until the beginning of August); no surgery; no hospital; no travel restrictions or dramatic physical decline.

Then is when Carmen goes back into chemo; physical decline; and eventually her life is shortened and ended by the cancer.

After Then is when Carmen fully experiences total peace, comfort, satisfaction, and fulfillment in the presence of God. And it is when I will support my kids, grieve for myself, and work to find some hopeful future, meaning, purpose, and engagement until my earth-clock stops ticking.

In the Now, we are seeking to keep things as normal as possible. But with a heightened appreciation for what we have together and can experience. In the Then, I will strive to support and comfort to the greatest extent possible. In the After Then, I will support the kids, grieve, and find a new cadence of life that respects our 34+ years together, but does not live only in photographs and memories.

Honestly, I have no real idea of what that looks like. All I know is that I feel like I really want to be able to imagine a meaningful, hopeful, and pleasant future. Although it will be broken, I will still want my heart to be able to smile.

Life's Not Fair ... and I am completely OK with that

Been thinking a lot about fairness lately--especially as many people have expressed their frustration/anger/disappointment that Carmen's cancer is "not fair". What did she/we do to deserve this? Nothing at all. But at the same time, what did we do to deserve many other parts of the life that we have had.


Did we do anything to deserve the three amazing and wonderful young women we know as our daughters? Certainly not enough to deserve them. How about the three godly, strong, and perfectly-suited men we know as our sons-in-law? Absolutely not. Have we lived well enough to deserve the three beautiful, capable, thoroughly enjoyable granddaughters that we are privileged to get to know more and more? Not a chance! Have we done anything to deserve the 30+ years that we have had together with a lifetime of memories packed in tight?


People certainly seem to have a much easier time embracing the good that we do not deserve than the bad that we do not deserve. But would I rather have everything be fair? Or would I rather get what I deserve? No. If I get what I deserve--for good or for ill--then there is no room for grace. Because grace is getting what I do not deserve.


In the spiritual sense grace is essential, because I could never live a good enough life to deserve God's favor or to merit His kind thoughts and actions towards me. If I was limited to what I deserve, then I would pay in the flesh and soul for every harsh word uttered, every improper thought expressed, and every selfish deed. (And I am not so self-deluded as to think that my kind words, or uplifting thoughts, or noble deeds would outweigh their negative counterparts.) I prefer grace over what I deserve because it is my only hope. And if I am going to be good with not getting what I deserve on the upside, then I can be disappointed, upset, and angry about Carmen's cancer, but I cannot shake my fist at the sky and cry "this is not fair!"


Make no mistake, I am not a fatalist, and I care very deeply about our current disease fight. But I neither blame God, nor do I feel that this should not be happening to us because we don't deserve it. No matter the outcome in the near term, I would not trade the good that we have not deserved to get out of this. AND, I am utterly confident that whatever comes in the near term, our experience of long term grace will make these weeks and months seem like but a fleeting moment.


Press On!