Before and After

When the word cancer is used in the same sentence as your name or the name of someone you love, it feels like you have purchased a one-way ticket to the land of the hopelessly screwed. It takes some doing to get your brain and being around the news. As the word spreads there are those who tell the story of their second cousin three times removed who had exactly the same thing. There are those who give you the pity-puppy-dog-eyes. Then there are those who assure that they “know just how we feel.” It’s all well-meaning and utterly unhelpful. All their efforts belong to the world of “after.”

After is what happens when you can’t “unknow” what you now know. After is the forever gone delusion of the end being “out there” somewhere on the more distant horizon. After is the Big Worry that goes with all the smaller worries that are part of a devastating and frightening diagnosis. After is everything that happens after you know.

I know this because Jean was recently diagnosed with cancer. Yes, her prognosis is excellent. Yes, she is in the best hands in the world, medically.

Still, I want before. Before is the time when we had the luxury of not thinking our worst thoughts and indulging our worst fears. Before is the time when we knew in a cognitive way that we are mortal but didn’t think about it much more than that. Before is the time when there was no feeling we had purchased a one way trip to the land of the hopelessly screwed.

I want before. I want the innocence and carefree moments that will never be again. Our lives are forever changed because from now on there will be scans and poking and prodding and bloodwork and doctor visits and all the things necessary to assure the disease has not returned.

As I was mulling all this over in the anxious and scared parts of my being, and as we talked about it and sometimes around it, it occurred to both of us that while everything has changed, nothing has changed.

We still practice the spiritual discipline of being present to the moment. We still trust in the Presence to guide us from where we are to whatever comes next. We still trust this is enough. It is the spiritual discipline of a lifetime to be truly present to the moment. The more we practice it, the less fear and anxiety rent space in our being.

Being present to the moment, even if the moment happens to suck, holds the promise of seeing the sacred in the midst of the fearful, the holy in the midst of the uncertain. It reinforces what I know in my bones; all we have is the present moment. It is the gateway to the peace that passes all understanding.

This peace is pure grace. It is not something we can will. It is not something we can wish for. It is not a fruit of believing all the “right” things or being “good enough.” It is simply a gift that comes when we live fully into the moment, no matter what the moment holds. It is a gift that comes when we hold on to the promise that we are ultimately in Good Hands. It is believing it will be okay, no matter how it turns out. I am not always in that head/heart space. When I am not, it is because I have allowed my fears and anxieties to run into the unknown and it is crazy making. But at the end of the day, I believe our lives are held by grace, that God is faithful because God can be nothing else, and that the bonds of unshakeable Holy love are the foundation on which all of life is built.

This has been true since time immortal. It is all the “before” I need.

A favorite old hymn to share:

Great is thy faithfulness,

God my Creator.

There is no shadow of turning with thee.

Thou changest not, thy compassions they fail not,

As thou hast been, thou forever wilt be.

Great is thy faithfulness, great is thy faithfulness

Morning by morning new mercies I see.

All I have needed thy hand has provided,

Great is thy faithfulness,

Lord unto me.

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