Waiting

As I wait for the pathology reports from the tumor removed from my colon last week, I would lie if I wasn’t anxious (I am making final edits on this at 1:30am after all).

While I feel prepared spiritually and emotionally for whatever path awaits, it is the waiting that is proving most difficult.

I was warned of this by cancer survivors, citing how having a diagnosis and a plan is better than this state of fear and worry. I trust the words of doctors who assure me I am in good hands, but one look at my little girls and I can’t help but wonder how much I will miss.

Prayers lift my spirit and as I heal, I am reminded of the wisdom from my friend who said, “let us do the praying for you as your life is your prayer now.”

Still, when the night arrives, I find myself begging for a miracle. It helps when I know friends all over the globe are praying for my healing, including offering prayers of healing important spiritual locations like Lourdes, Assisi, Rome, and Paris.

I trust in God, and I can even trust in the doctors and medical experts. What is most challenging is that for the first time in my life, I cannot trust my body.

I am not angry at it, and I am sure I could have treated it better at times, but I no longer trust it as I once did. This is new and frightening.

How could I not know what was growing within me, likely for years?

What else is stirring within that will cause future pain and even loss?

I am conditioned to listen to my body for an early symptom, like the first sneezes of a seasonal cold. While there was the sign of blood one year ago, this mass likely started growing several years ago. I feel a bit deceived.

In a consultation with an expert in the field, I asked her what is causing so many younger people to have tumors in their colon. She acknowledged that this remains a mystery, but the leading theory is a combination of the overuse of antibiotics as children, processed food, and genetics.

This information does not help me in my trust of body, but it does help me in not blaming myself for this significant predicament that I now find myself.

However, as I bring this to prayer, the temptation to distrust my body is countered by a gentle, silent voice that invites me to listen and learn. I find rest here.

As I wait for the pathology report, I focus on the day in front of me. Each morning, I prepare my mind and spirit to achieve simple goals, to manage the pain, and to be present to all in front of me.

While I would rather know what is ahead of me, and what is occurring within me, I am invited to simply be and to heal. I pray I look back at this day and smile knowing it wasn’t as bad as I feared, but I also understand this may very well be the calm before the next storm.

So, I wait and I ask you for your continued prayers for whatever is and will be.