Sunday Morning Musings

Friday night I went to bed with a plan. Since Caroline lightly covers my leg wound for sleeping, I planned to leave it on when I woke up Saturday morning, get dressed and for the first time in seven weeks, get in my car and go for a drive. My hopes of an early adventure were dashed when I discovered my son-in-law had parked his new truck in front of my garage and was still in bed. Even though I had to wait, by 9:30 I was backing out of my garage and on my way.

A sense of independence washed over me. Finally, here I was once again out of the house, on my own. First stop was the bank. There had been no cash in my wallet for over two months. Not that I needed any. It felt like one more confirmation I was on my way to getting my life back. The radio was off. I drove in silence with prayer on my lips. “Thank you God for all the little ways you have provided for this journey of suffering.”

In those moments driving through downtown Derry, an awareness of optimism emerged. I thought, “Maybe I can do this. One day, I will fully accept what the radical mastectomy left behind. I will be okay! I will resurface in my life physically healed and spiritually changed.”  

I have searched out and listened to sermons on suffering. My favorite by far is Tim Keller. He said the sufferings in life change us. Weakness turns to strength. Without weakness, there will never be strength. “We become a diamond under pressure,” he said. The Apostle Paul wrote that we glory “in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us.” (Romans 5:3-5)

The success of my Saturday morning adventure gave me confidence to return to church. Despite the growing discomfort of my leg, I basked in the love of my church family’s greetings and hugs. I sat in the worship service with an awareness that serving my creator will perhaps look different in what life I have left—in the months and years ahead. I silently prayed that I would have a keen awareness of God’s voice. I once heard someone say, “God speaks in the wilderness, there’s no distractions there.”