Getting It Together?

IN HER BOOK, Bird by Bird, Anne Lamott says if you want to know about living, hang around the dying. Well, she didn’t have me in mind. My life is no more together than it was before I was diagnosed. Very frustrating—having survived this long, I assumed by now, I’d have a wealth of knowledge about how to live that I could pass on to others.

NOT SO. I struggle as much with the same plethora of faults as I ever did: character flaws, leaving undone what I meant to do, the thoughtless comment, the unpolished shoes, the belief that I could do better if only I tried harder. And I must not forget a hardheadedness of epic proportions.

HAVE I CONQUERED my desire to control what can’t be controlled? Don’t ask my children.

CAN I PASS Bible-study-champion Beth Moore’s litmus test for pride? Can I be happy that a job is done well—even if someone else did it? Can I resist leaving my own mark on it? Believe me, when it comes to some things—like moving furniture—I’m not there yet.

WELL . . . maybe one thing has changed. I once believed in making a plan and thundering toward its accomplishment. Now thunder of any sort doesn’t seem to apply to me. I’ve become more of a flexibility-junky.

I FIND I STILL MAKE PLANS, but many of them don’t make it past the thrill of possibility. These days I often find myself helping others achieve their goals, while my own get hung up in the Disciplined Order of Christ request I always put to God: “If this is what You want me to do, increase my desire for it . . . but, if it isn’t, please take away my desire.”

I TRY NOT TO TORMENT MYSELF while I wait for the answer. It isn’t always forthcoming. Did I mention I find staying-in-the-moment challenging?

IT’S PRETTY DISAPPOINTING. Dealing with cancer hasn’t lead me to a greater knowledge of life . . . but it has led me to faith. And for me, I have to say if it were mine to make, I’d make the same choice again.

You’re blessed. Be a blessing!