The times in our lives when it seems hardest are the times that we have lost our sight of Him.
I have struggled in the last 24 hours, especially to remember where God is. Right beside me, right where He has always been.
God tries our faith, this much is true. I think of the story of Peter and walking across the water. Christ says, "Come on out, Peter." So Peter jumps out of the boat, and for a few moments, life is great. He is on top of the world. He is doing the impossible. It had to have been SO COOL! Then, all of the sudden, he thinks to himself, "Look at those waves! This was a bad idea!" and down he goes. Peter took his eyes off Christ. He started focusing on his circumstance. The coolness of the impossible all of the sudden became, "What on EARTH am I doing?!!?"
Our faith is like that. Life is peachy keen while we are on top of the waves. While we are cruising along. It's so cool and living for God is totally rad ;-) All of the sudden salt water licks at our kneecaps and we look down. Then, down we go. We take our eyes off Christ and we focus on our situation, we freak out and instead of reaching out to Him, we drown. Bad idea.
I am thankful for Godly friends. They have kept my focus on Him when it has been so hard. I spoke with one last night and told him, "Whether it is or isn't (cancer) the only part of my life that I want to change is my passion to live it." Today, I did just that. I got out of home, I chilled with the boys :-) We went and played sand volleyball. It was the first time I really noticed the growing lump in my throat. They waited patiently for me as I continually took breaks to make sure I didn't overdo it. We went out to lunch and spoke of God, of our walk with Him, of how we struggle with certain aspects of our lives.
One thing we discussed was our daily devotional lives. A friend said, "Isn't it funny how the days you spend time with God seem to go so well and then the days you don't, everything falls apart." Throughout our discussion, we determined it all comes back to discipline. I shared with them that Friday morning I was running late. I had ten minutes to spare and the thought crossed my mind, "Sorry God, I just don't have time this morning, maybe later." Conviction flooded me and I thought to myself, "No, you need this, you need to do this, even if it isn't a lot of time." I told them that those few moments I spent are what got me through yesterday. Without those moments of reflection and worship, I would have drowned. We must keep our focus on Him.
I didn't cry today, at least not until I started talking with my mom. Life suddenly feels different when you realize that in a matter of weeks I might be scheduling surgery or chemotherapy. Pretty much my life is going to change drastically in one way or the other. I will probably have to take medicine everyday for the rest of my life. I could die. These are waves, and they are calling out to me to fall in.
There are times I feel myself sinking. Panic begins to set in, but then I remember who He is and where He is. He is my Saviour, the Maker of the mountains I am unable to climb, my Fortress, my Rock, my Deliverer, my Sufficiency, the Lover of my Soul, the Creator of my life, the Sustainer of my being, the only One worthy of all of my praise and He has never left me. He has not changed. My circumstances should not change my relationship with Him except to draw me closer.
One of the songs that I have fallen in love with over the past couple weeks is "Mighty to Save" by Laura Story (or Hillsong United). I love the chorus:
"Saviour, He can move the mountains. My God is mighty to save; He is mighty to save. Forever, Author of Salvation. He rose and conquered the grave, Jesus conquered the grave."
He is my saviour and He is mighty to save, but even if He doesn't 'save' me from this, He is still mighty. Praise God.