The Uninvited Guest

Heavy, gray clouds weight the sky. No rain. Even on a sunny day in our southern California home there would be a lingering bit of gloom; an uninvited guest has taken up residence and we don’t like it. By mid-March trees and flowers had been blooming for weeks. The beauty all around us was incongruent with the news my husband received from his doctor. It’s prostate cancer but the biopsy (Gleason numbers) marked it aggressive. Weeks and months after changing insurance, before we knew, left us in long periods of waiting for a new primary doctor, urologist, biopsy, scans and finally an appointment to see the surgeon next week – all this after waiting for another scan that never was approved.

We do our chores, we eat our meals, we go to church, we chat with friends and family. Life looks normal, but it is now a cover for the invisible alien in our home. We work around it as we wait for its removal. Others have had worse – we know some of those brave souls – but this is our journey. We are hopeful but nervous. Thankfully we know who keeps track of our days and has all the details of our lives in His hands – our Lord and Savior, Jesus.

It is a reminder our lives on earth are temporary. It is a reminder that we do not know what tomorrow holds. It is a reminder to be clear about how you want this day to be lived. It is a reminder to be grateful for the people in our lives, the life we’ve been given, and the simple things this ordinary moment holds.

We finish an ugly, difficult puzzle that has taken too much real estate in our house since Christmas. We watch episode after episode of The Great Interior Design Challenge, lunch with Dad Joiner, hem curtains, weed flower beds and take walks. Because, what else can you do when cancer silently creeps in and only makes itself known through your blood work?

You keep living and working, that’s what you do. You link arms with everyone you know and you pray. You trust God. If we truly believe all we say we believe about Him, then we can trust Him with this demand on the flesh. No amount of waiting on insurance can change God’s plan.

We make plans we know we may have to change when a surgery date is set. We look forward to sunny summer days, barbecues, and my daughter’s wedding. We celebrate significant birthdays. We will slow down for a bit while healing happens, but we live our lives the best way we know how, even in limbo. Isn’t it true we are all in between something – waiting. So it’s a good idea to live the best we can today. Though we are sometimes anxious not knowing, this is just a chapter in the narrative of our lives; it isn’t how the story ends. For that I am deeply grateful.