Monday, June 16, 2014

Not Letting Go

Four years ago is when my symptoms first began to appear. I did not know or understand much about the journey that I was beginning to take--where it would go or how long it would last. But as I sit here now, I am amazed at how my memories of events from years ago have been used to teach me lessons along this road.

These past few weeks a memory has kept popping into my head. The memory is from the days that Chad had his learner's permit and we were teaching him how to drive. At the time, I was driving the truck that was destined to be his when he turned 16. In fact, he even helped pick out the truck when we bought it. One Saturday morning, I awoke early and looked out the window to see the grass and streets covered with snow. I thought that this would be a great opportunity to teach Chad to drive on icy streets. In North Texas, snow does not last long, so I went out and cleaned off the truck and then went up to Chad's room and rousted him out of bed with, "Get up, we're going driving." At the time, there was a new neighborhood going in across the street from our neighborhood. All of the streets were in, but no houses were built yet. I drove across to that neighborhood, and we switched places. I had Chad drive around the streets, and every now and then I would tell him to give it a little extra gas around the corner so that the back end would slide out and he would have to correct the slide. Once I felt like he had a good grasp of how to drive in these conditions, I had him drive down to the end of the longest street in the neighborhood and turn around and get centered in the middle of the street. I then said, "I want you to speed up to 30 to 35 mph and then slam on the brakes." Chad looked at me with a look of concern. What I had just told him to do was a complete contradiction to what I had been telling him for almost 30 minutes. Not to mention, it sounded like I wanted him to turn his future truck into a sled. I repeated my instructions, "Speed up to 30 to 35 mph and slam on the brakes," but this time I added, "No matter what you feel, do not let go." I knew what was about to happen, but Chad had not experienced anti-lock brakes before. He did as I instructed, and things went just as I knew they would. Driving lesson complete, we headed for home.

Now, what does that story have to do with cancer? Of late, there have been several occasions when I start to lose my focus. There just does not seem to be anything positive, and all I see is impending chaos, and I feel like things are sliding out of control. At those times, I can hear God say, "I have brought you to this place and put you on this journey for a reason. All you need to do is keep going and no matter what you feel, do not let go of Me."