Kalama

This is not I-5, but it is a road
travelled last summer.

We used to go to Portland quite a bit (BB - before babies).  Inevitably whatever time of day we left to come home, somewhere on I-5 past Vancouver, before Castle Rock I would fall asleep.  That long stretch of I-5 just drags on and on (and on).  I used to try to stay awake, just to make sure Dave wouldn't fall asleep or run into the truck in front of us.  It didn't take long for me to figure out he is an excellent driver and I could rest easy knowing I was safe.  I don't think I have ever seen Kalama, that's the city in that no where land.  Why in the world am I talking about driving on I-5?  Glad you asked.

By now most of you know my obsession with paths.  Much of what we have experienced these last 6 months gets compared to some kind of "journey" or "road" metaphor.  As I ponder "how we are doing" at this stage, I think of passing through Kalama.  I'm tired and I want to sleep.

I'd like to not deal with appointments, chemo, countless statements from Blue Cross (do I need save all those?).  This is the "boring" part of the journey, not a lot that grabs our attention, no fun side trip.  It's easy to be lazy and wish "we'd get there already". 

However, I see an exit ahead and it promises to bring an adventure.  Tomorrow we go to our Chemo Teach.  They'll tell us something important we should remember.  I'm actually dreading it.  I know it has the potential to discourage us.  We'll hear about the lengthy appointments, the slow 48 hour drip, the side effects.  We'll sit there wide eyed wondering what in the world we just signed up for.   Next Tuesday Dave will go in to have his port implanted into his body.  Then 16 weeks of chemo commences.

Wow, this is a really depressing post.  I feel like I should insert a joke for comic relief!  I don't know any though...I could just tell you another embarrassing story, you know I'm good for one.  Part of me wants to only share the "good" part of the story: God's Faithfulness, Provision, Comfort, Strength.  Those are all very tangibly real still.  And the other part of me just wants to be honest with you.  This life is hard and sometimes heart-breaking.  I feel like I'm walking in a fog most days.  (and again, I'm not the one with cancer!)  I realize this is part of the journey and surprisingly, I'm okay with it.  I'm not depressed or "at the end of my rope", life is just more difficult right now.

God is still in control of our circumstances.  He is the One leading and we can fully rest, knowing we are safe as we travel on this road that passes through this place called Cancer.

My desire these days come from Psalm 86:11  ~ 

Teach me your way, O LORD; I will walk in Your truth; unite my heart to fear Your name.