Avoiding the bumpy Road

My son peeked around the driver seat, and squealed, “Mom, go the bumpy road.” Ignoring his request, I turned left, finding my breath in the smooth pavement. Who knew I could escalate a situation by simply getting on with my day and heading home versus going straight and taking “the bumpy road.” 

Quickly, I recalled a conversation with my good friend just ten minutes before this “fork in the road.” Convicted, I searched for another dirt road to make his day. Hopefully, I’d reap the benefits of him being better regulated after all that extra vibration of the dirt road. 

Turning down the next dirt road, his eyes sparkled as he let out his joyful screech. 

Immediately, my loss of control flew out the window. 

I’ve lost control like this before. 

The divots in the road have bounced my insides up and down, setting me off balance. It was enough jerking for the contents of my stomach to come out of my mouth. Just ask my sister. Well in this particular case, I was surrounded by people I didn’t know very well. I was on a mission trip in Nairobi, Kenya. The potholes, brick roads, and the savannah’s winding roads just about tortured me. 

My new found friend rubbed my back and held me close to help me center myself on the dusty, three hour adventure to our service project in the bare, vast open road of Kenya. 

God provided comfort when I had no sense of control.

A bump away from blowout. 

Terrified of blowing out my tire, the squeal of the tires going up and over the gashes in the road reminded me of how this season of survivorship feels.

My summer consisted of these highs and lows, me running from what cancer had stolen from me. I ran from my hobbies, friends, and family. 

I tried avoiding the blowout. Between my emotions, physical healing, hormones tanking, facing the realities of new beginnings, and unregulated kids, I felt like I was stuck on the side of the road figuring out how to change my flat tire. 

Recently, my family and friends joined me in a cancer event supporting the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. Caught between two worlds, the light of the world and the darkness that so easily entangles, I searched to do just that: light up the darkness of cancer. 

Carrying the light of healing doesn’t negate my grandma’s unconsciousness, the loss my best friends experienced, my friend in active treatment, and the loved ones on the verge of beginning treatment. With darkness lurking, what a great reminder: a small amount of light actually illuminates in the deep black of the night.    

Is moving forward possible, if I’m just a bump away from a blowout? 

In my rear view mirror, there he was having the time of his life, bumping up and down. I also couldn’t help but notice my obscured view through the dusty, rear window. 

In the thick of life, it’s hard to see how far I've come through that filthy rear window. It’s hard to feel like I am carrying even an ounce of hope and light in this broken world. 

The gift of seeing clearly on the bumpy road, isn’t that the antidote? Finding gold in the midst of fear and suffering leads to a life lived out to the full. 

When I went to Boston for a young adult cancer event, I was blown away by the obstacles my peers have had to endure through their cancer. Standing before them, I shared the importance of “Making Gratitude the Loudest.” 

Simply gratitude. My Heavenly Father says just that, “In every thing give thanks: for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you.” (1 Thessalonians 5:18)

So, many of you have ventured on this journey of overcoming cancer with me. Recently, you prayed and believed big things for me on my trip to Boston. I shared the reason for that trip here. To say it plainly, I’ve neglected sharing the highlights of this trip and my first published piece of writing. 

I have not been making gratitude the loudest.

Staring through my filthy rear window, I am overwhelmed: lacking focus, overscheduling my time, prioritizing temporary things of this world, and sulking in the cards I’ve been dealt. My whole being feeling out of control.

Jesus declares to His disciples the reality of hardships.

Avoiding getting dirty isn’t an option. 

Obsessing over cleaning up the house, stuffing my kids’ emotions, and writing off my husband, I am full of pride. I don’t want to get dirty. My son thinks the dirtier the van gets the better. At the same time, I cringe at the thought of moving forward wearing the filth. The shame and fear I dress myself in are so much more comfortable than the possibilities that lie ahead. 

Confession: I utilize my spending money on a monthly car wash membership. It would be a sensible expense if I lived off of a dusty road or frequently traveled the highway. Yet, I’m in the clean vehicle pulling up to the carwash to get a good rinse. 

Am I even worthy of a carwash? 

The bumpy road is messy. I’ve got loads of baggage riding shotgun: unmet expectations, hurt, rejection, fear, trauma, shame, control, obsessiveness, avoidance, and darkness tucked tightly inside of me. All of which, I’ve endured through cancer, and in some instances, my entire life. 

If only the baggage of cancer: shedding hair, menopause, scans, medication, pelvic floor pain, depression, and trauma disappeared like the cancer cells did with those toxic chemotherapy drugs. 

Fortunately for each of us, our Creator calls us His very good work and cleanses us of our pasts and present better than any chemotherapy drugs. Like a filthy van needing a good wash, Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection gives us hope and a future with God. 

My pastor put it this way, “If you’re stuck in your past, you can never walk into your future…You have a huge windshield up here because what matters most is where you’re going and what’s in front of you. Could you imagine if I tried to leave my house and drive all the way to work only looking in the rear view mirror?” Rehearsing the pain will only keep me from the future God has for me. 

Are you in need of a carwash? 

That deep cleansing of our souls is available for us today. The Bible says, “If you declare with your mouth, ‘Jesus is Lord,’ and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved. For it is with your heart that you believe and are justified, and it is with your mouth that you profess your faith and are saved.” (Romans 10:9-10) If you declared that, please let me know here. 

To my son’s dismay the bumpy road ended. Praise God!

My son and I landed far off the path we were originally on.

I shared in my last update, the Israelites discomfort with their far from direct route to the Promised Land. How refreshing that God is still at work on the roundabout way, so that he gets all the glory and praise.

What detour have you been on in the past or recently? I’d love to see how God is moving on your detour here. 

By the grace of God, today’s bumpy road trip set the trajectory for my interactions with my son the rest of the day. 

My prayer is that you will find hope that the bumpy road will come to an end. Maybe not right now, or even here on earth, but if we allow God to be in the driver seat, the road will smooth out, and He will eventually redeem the bumpy road. God is worthy of our trust in Him.  

Let’s fix our gaze on the GOOD He is doing on our bumpy journey. Simply glancing at the grime behind me, I can see the gold God provided in my past and the gold He is using to pave my future; even if it's a little bumpy. 

P.S. Special thanks to Cocomelon for providing me the opportunity to get back on the horse and write.