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Monday, October 04, 2021

A long hike

Jennifer and I are listening to Kate Bowler read her newly released book (on Audible), No Cure for Being Human.  It’s her story of being diagnosed with Stage 4 colon cancer (metastatic — spread to her liver, etc) at age 35.  She’s a poetic, poignant writer — with a sense of humor (and we love her because she teaches in the Divinity School at Duke). We’re only 3 chapters in, but the pain of her diagnosis, the acute detail of the indignities, and the real and potential losses counted— all reverberate with familiarity around this little farmhouse in West Virginia. 

In Chapter 3 she talks about her time with a psychologist…

he tells me that he learned a secret from hikers of the Appalachian Trail. People who dare to attempt the whole trail face down more than six months of lugging their belongings over more than two thousand miles of daunting terrain. Because eager beginners start their trek carrying heavy packs brimming with tarps and tents, cooking utensils and flasks and granola bars, that first stop on this long journey is the most important one. The hiker is already starting to flag, but they have only just begun. They have reached a moment of decision, the moment to ask, “What can I set down?” The extra cooking pot. The fleece hoodie. “This will be a hard journey,” he says. “Is there anything you can set down?”

This challenge whirls around us.  What things do we need to set down?  How long will this journey of healing take?  Two thousand miles?  It feels like that today.  Jennifer and I had an animated discussion this evening (some fly on the wall might have called it an argument). What should we say to those who we supervise?  Do we set out some hypothetical timeline, imperfect though it may be? Or do we just ask for grace, live one day at a time and admit that we have no idea? The fact of the matter is the human penchant for control leads us to self-deception. We don’t order our steps.  But that realization may not come to light until our plans are turned upside down and emptied out on the pavement in tiny little pieces.  So tempting to try to put those little pieces back together.  

Kate Bowler again…

“It’s easy to imagine letting go when we forget that choices are luxuries, allowing us to maintain our illusion of control. But until those choices are plucked from our hands—someone dies, someone leaves, something breaks—we are only playing at surrender…

Ah, Surrender.  Set it down.  Still thinking—the pot or the hoodie…

13 comments:

meg said...

This is so good. Even in your heartache and sorrow and unknowns and pain, thank you for sharing with us. We promise to continue to pray for healing, restoration, grace, wisdom and for the Lord to feel as near as He is.

mercygraceword said...

" The fact of the matter is the human penchant for control leads us to self-deception. We don’t order our steps. But that realization may not come to light until our plans are turned upside down and emptied out on the pavement in tiny little pieces."

So relevant to probably many of us. And thank you for being the tipping point on the decision to order this book...

Praying to "He Who Knows Men's Thinking"... for comfort and healing and hopeful expectancy.

mercygraceword said...

I notice one of the endorsers of "No Cure for Being Human" says, "A must-read for anyone whose life has been bifurcated into a before and after."

Praying for its redeeming impact.

Sally said...

Jesus has met you and will continue to meet you in the midst of this inability to plan and order the timeline. We think often of the encouragement offered from Amy and Travis: by keeping our hands open in prayer, we will be in a posture to receive what God is giving to us. It certainly seems that humility is a gift that is given through the most unsettling of life's circumstances.

Jill said...

Thought provoking! For the hikers the items are put down so the journey may continue. It is not a place of giving up. No matter what transpires in your future nothing will take you out of His grace filled love. Praying with you.

Judith Shoolery said...

Dear Scott and Jennifer,

My younger son, who has been having life-altering scrapes since he was eight years old, is now approaching his 57th birthday and his second anniversary of remission from his most recent scrape, non-Hodgkins lymphoma.

I love talking with him because he makes me laugh, and your post makes me think of a recent example:

We were talking about God's promise to care for us.

I say: "But I find it so hard to give up control."

Son John: "No trick to it, Mom. You turn it over to God, and then three minutes later you turn it over to God, and then three minutes later . . ."

May you be blessed by laughter during these hard days as you, who have so long served as God's hands, place your hands in His to rest awhile. May God bless and keep you.

Judy in HMB

Kate said...

Beautiful reference. The space “in between” is always hard. People know how to respond in the triumphs and tragedy….there is always something to do, to be, to act upon. The space in between is hard….it is the time to receive. Be wise in what you allow to come to you there—& where it comes from. Hope comes from the Lord, “despair is Satan’s masterpiece.” In recognizing the loss of control….which is only ever an illusion we stumble into weakness and must look up & remember that in our weakness God’s strength is perfected. Set down control & embrace Grace—the answers will come. I was talking with our son Trent(who was born with spastic diplegia cerebral palsy) and asked what his perspective is. Here’s what he offered: “You never want your disability to define you….but neither should you allow pride to keep you from receiving help or gifts from others that God puts in your path, that’s where you find the blessings.” We are thinking of Jennifer & your whole family & the ministry & keeping all of you in prayer. Wait with expectation….But God!!! In Him, Kate Neely & family

Heather Pike Agnello said...

I can’t tell you how much this helps me. Just started listening to her today, finally, long after Jennifer (& today, Pat) recommended her. Love you both.

Sandi Hoogland said...

Love Kate Bowler's writing. Continuing to keep you in prayer. No words of wisdom from me. Just holding you in my silence and prayer.

Stacy Davis said...

We can relate to the struggle to order our days and the uncertainty in the waiting. Not easy. But the good news is that He is there with you through all of it. Praying for you guys.

Barbara Elwood said...

Scott and Jennifer, Our prayers for healing continue as you continue this hike. Thank you for this post. It fed my soul this morning. I found it to be full of wisdom and insight, just like the two of you. Love to your entire family.

Pam and Paul said...

Thank you for sharing ..as always your blog is honest and inspiring and wise. May God give you grace and strength as you choose the metaphirical items for your journey. He IS present and am so glad to be sharing this journey with you and your lovely family. On our knees with you. xx

Unknown said...

We are continuing to be with the family in prayer for our sister Jennifer. Pat has been my source of information regarding Jen's progress. I thank God that I can follow on a daily. We love you!