Focus

"Live like you are dying." This is a well-known phrase that is meant to spur people on to great adventures and encourage them to let go of the little things. I have never fully appreciated its meaning until I began doing research to prepare for my initial meeting with one of the world's leading Lymphoma specialists. She will be working alongside my current oncologist to come up with the most effective treatment plan for my illness. I wanted to go into our meeting with a foundational knowledge on recurrent Hodgkin's Lymphoma so that I could know what kind of questions to ask and not be so overwhelmed with the doctor lingo and treatment options. In retrospect, I wish I had followed another well-know adage: "Ignorance is bliss."

A study conducted in 2002 (and consequently the most current study I could find) charted that the probability of a person with recurrent Hodgkin's Lymphoma, occurring within a year of achieving remission, to survive past 5 years was 11-46%. Thankfully, medicine has come a long way in 12 years, and assuming everything goes off without a hitch, the specialist said that I have a better chance of achieving that coveted 5 year mark than the study would indicate. My young age is definitely beneficial in this battle, but I have an aggressive cancer that is fast spreading. Treatment will be extensive and crippling. My chances of survival could definitely be worse, but they are a far cry from ideal. There are many factors that weigh in and many variables that could tip the scales one way or another. My life has essentially been reduced to a cosmic coin toss:

Flip the coin. Heads or tails?

Heads: I get to see my spunky, beautiful girl grow up into the fantastic, strong woman that I know she will be one day.
Tails: I will not be there to see her first day of kindergarten.

Heads: I will grow old with my marvelous husband, and our life will be full of children, adventures, and grandbabies.
Tails: I will be long gone before his 35th birthday.

Heads: I live a fulfilling life full of purpose. I make an impact on the world, or at least my corner of it. I get to travel to the countries that I have been dreaming to visit, and make a difference in the lives of the forgotten. I die knowing that I have fulfilled my purpose on this earth.
Tails: I spend the rest of my life trying not to die, as my body withers and fades to nothing.

Heads: I live.
Tails: I die.

I have been struggling with this concept. Normally, I excel in finding silver linings, insist my glass is half full, and have enough optimism to disgust most people within a 50 mile radius. However, after hearing about my treatment plan, I. Just. Couldn't.  I tried focusing on the positives and take joy in every day but it just seemed forced. How does one overlook Death when it is staring her right in the face? I cried to God, "I have so much to live for, so much I want to accomplish! I want to see my Olive on her wedding day while her daddy walks her down the aisle. I want to open my home to children who feel unloved and damaged and let them see that they are important. I want to make a difference with You, for You!" I am an idealist by nature, and so I have always had impossibly huge dreams about where my life would take me and the adventures that I would have. I believe God knows my heart and yet it seemed like He had placed all of my desires just out of my reach.

These are dark thoughts that have kept me company. I have wrestled with them, never satisfied with their ending, never liking where they were leading. My spirit was restless because I knew that this couldn't be it. You see, the optimist in me cannot stand hopelessness. The idealist in me cannot accept that this suffering is without purpose. And the Jesus in me cannot be crippled, even by Death.

With this final realization came an overwhelming sense of peace. Jesus overcame Death itself so that I could not only have life, but I could have an abundant life, a full life. Laying on a bed while cancer eats away my peace of mind, my purpose, and my body is not a life. I refuse to believe that is all I am meant to do with this time. Even when He was dying on the cross, Jesus took the time to save a sinner, intercede for those who humiliated Him, and to comfort those who wept (see Luke 23 and John 19). And His suffering was so much greater than anything I will ever experience. How can I proceed any differently than my Master?

I truly believe that cancer will not be how my story ends. But no matter my outcome, my battle has been already been won:

Heads: I live
Tails: I live abundantly next to my Savior.