I have to believe that God is involved. I have to believe that the good, the bad, and the scary are all part of a bigger picture and that God has a reason. I feel like we’re on the same side of things, but God speaks in another language. I try my best to decipher the messages.
The waters were beginning to calm. I thought that God was planning a period of quiet for me to reflect and recover fully as I near the end of my cancer treatment. I sit along the shoreline. Behind me, a home is being erected with a backyard and bedrooms for a family. But from where I sit, I can see a violent storm brewing on the horizon.
My mom has a tumor on her ovary. They don’t know what it is yet.
I’m not sure where this storm will go. It could hit my little island. It could change course. It could minimize into a soft rain.
But why? What is the point? Why here? Why now?
I have so many fears. I’m scared of life. I’m scared of death. I’m scared of loss. But, life is balanced. The counter of suffering is joy. It allows joy to float up and exist in the heavens of experience. I have had my suffering and now I am ready to enjoy my life.
I’m doing my best to re-frame this situation. I’m trying to see the point.
Perhaps this storm is not truly mine…?
It’s sometimes hard for me to see that my family and friends do not exist on a contiguous plane; we are a chain of islands. I can help my neighbors. I can help them to prepare for storms and rebuild after they have passed.
It’s excruciating and terrifying to watch a neighboring island be ravaged by life. All we can do is pray and hope and wish for the best possible outcome.
I am also learning that I cannot be the heroine of anyone else’s story. It is time for my mom to decipher God’s messages and learn to be the heroine of her own life.
I have decided to build myself a temple of solitude. A place where I can heal and focus. A place where I can have peace. A place where I might be protected from the impending storm.