Every now and then life throws you a curved ball. This week one landed fair and square in my world. By the time this post appears online the vast majority of people I know reasonably well in the real world, and certainly all the essential ones, will know about it, but I have deliberately held back from posting until now both to allow the news to reach some key people and to start to get my head around it all. Indeed, part of my logic for posting at all is that there will be an inevitable effect on my blog - both in terms of frequency of posting and in content.
Deep breath.
This week I was diagnosed with breast cancer and have been undergoing tests to help the experts determine how best to treat it; treatment should begin within the next couple of weeks and will last about a year if all goes to plan. My consultant has told me that my cancer is 'treatable', and whilst he obviously can't give any guarantees, he is hopeful of a good outcome. I ought to note that at the moment I am otherwise completely fit and well and, hospital appointments notwithstanding, racing around Glasgow as madly as ever.
As treatment progresses, there will be stuff I write that is not suitable for public consumption, and that will form a private, personal journal. At the same time, I think there is a need for honest Christian writing about facing such challenges - I hear and see too much Pollyanna stuff that feels inauthentic and causes we lesser mortals to feel bad about not sailing serenely through the stuff life sends our way, free from anxiety, singing hymns and praising God for the opportunity. Even as I type that, I know it could be misheard - I don't want to dismiss what is authentic for other people but I don't want to have to pretend: right now I am scared and I'm not about to claim otherwise; I am also surrounded by the most wonderful network of love and support a person could wish for. Whilst not every truth has to be told, in order to be authentic I need to be truthful, and that isn't always an easy balance.
I don't want my blog to become purely an account of my illness, to do that would give it greater prominence in my life than I want to. This blog has always been a place where I ramble about church life, theology and other random bits: I want that to continue. Some general updates on this 'journey' (cliche of the millennium I reckon) will be available on the Gathering Place website via our newsletter and I may from time to time post significant (in my view) events. Certainly there will be some of the thoughts this experience prompts from a theological/spiritual perspective. The deal is that I will spare you excessive detail so long as you are willing to accept the honesty of struggle and not expect me to view this is as some kind of divinely ordained test of my faith. I firmly believe that God is with me in this and will accompany me through it. I've a feeling Gethsemane and even Gehenna might be stopping off point in the months ahead, but these are places/states God has been (and/or is) so it will be copable.
The Bible record is replete with honesty in adversity, the ancients seem not to been afraid to tell it as it was, knowing that God could cope. Unlike God, we humans are easily bruised and can all too easily bruise others. Being a public figure, a minister, brings responsibility as well as privilege, so I will try to get it right, and ask you to forgive me when, as it sometimes will be, what I say is offensive, insensitive or bruising.
My little church in Dibley introduced me to the Kendrick song/hymn For the joys and for the sorrows with its chorus 'for this I have Jesus.' It is a song that sustained us through many challenges whilst I was there, and its truth will help me in what lies ahead:
For the joys and for the sorrows
The best and worst of times
For this moment, for tomorrow,
For all that lies behind;
Fears that crowd around me
For the failure of my plans
For the dreams of all I hope to be
The truth of what I am
For this, I have Jesus,
For this, I have Jesus,
For this, I have Jesus
I have Jesus.
For the tears that flow in secret
In the broken times
For the moments of elation
Or the troubled mind
For all the disappointments
Or the sting of old regrets
All my prayers and longings
That seem unanswered yet...
For the weakness of my body
The burdens of each day
For the nights of doubt and worry
When sleep has fled away
Needing reassurance
And the will to start again
A steely-eyed endurance
The strength to fight and win...
Graham Kendrick (c) Make Way Music
It's an intriguing song, can speak to many situations, and I hope in it you find something for your own challenges.
This post will appear just as the Gatherers and I begin Sunday worship together. We will be celebrating the gift of life as we welcome a new baby in to our family. We will also be celebrating God's defeat of evil, sin and death as we meet around the Lord's Table. My one real prayer for today is that joy and hope will triumph, not in a twee way that denies reality, but in a God-honouring one that makes a beautiful rainbow of sunshine through the rain, laughter through tears.
Comments
To be surrounded by love is an image used in Julian, where better translated as 'enfolded in love'. And whatever else all this means Catriona, you are indeed enfolded in the love of God made real through a loving community.
In the Revelations of Divine Love Julian comes to the same conclusion as you about our own existence sustained by the God who holds all things in God's hand - and it would be hard to find a more persuasive theologian than Julian:
"He showed me a little thing, the size of a hazelnut, on the palm of my hand, round like a ball. I looked at it thoughtfully and wondered, ‘What is this?’ And the answer came, ‘It is all that is made.’ I marvelled that it continued to exist and did not suddenly disintegrate; it was so small. And again my mind supplied the answer, ‘It exists both now and for ever because God loves it.’
May you know the love of God through the gentle, generous kindness, and through the strong protective defensiveness of those fine folk who do much of God's enfolding! Shalom, my friend.
You're in my prayers. Glad to hear it's treatable, but I know that the treatment will be long and hard. But God is with us.
God bless
Gary
You are in my thoughts and prayers at this time. May God Surround you and up hold you.
Bless you
Richard
Sorry to hear your news Catriona - it makes my troubles seem insignificant. You will be in my prayers and, more importantly, held in the Father's inexhaustible love, the delight of his heart. I just know that God will find ways to use your illness to bring his love and peace to others.
(((((())))))))
So very sorry to hear this news. I'm looking forward to hearing of your progress as you work through this. May your god bless you.
Sorry to hear this - good luck. I know it's a cliche but you'll be in my thoughts and prayers
That particular song was probably Graham Kendrick's finest moment - the last verse says it all. Will keep you in my prayers.
Richard Malin - Radford Semele Baptist Church
Praying for you. And be as negative/ challenging/ upset etc as you want. I know it doesn't always go down very well (especially in Christian circles), but some of us also know what it's like and appreciate a fellow traveller's honesty
Thank you each and all for your lovely comments, they are so encouraging at a scary time in my life.
Radical, I don't think 'degree' really comes in to it; your difficulties are different in nature, that's all. They are every bit as real, every bit as painful - I pray you may find the loving support you need at this time. Your post today hints that maybe you are starting to. That's good.
Today has been a good day in many ways, and for that I am truly thankful (does that sound twee?!!!)
You'll be in my prayers over the coming months...