Crashing

Tonight I am feeling a bit fragile. My last dose of strong steroids was Saturday, and I started crashing hard about lunchtime today. (Right after giving a bunch of blood to the lab, which is now my Monday/Thursday thing.) The steroids definitely affected my sleep pattern. The first two nights home from the hospital, I slept 11:00 pm to 3:00 am, and last night was 10:00 pm to 2:00 am, and then I am awake for the day. One lingering side affect from the chemo includes a strong sensitivity to cold. Touching bottles in the fridge is like touching a hot stove, and drinking an icy beverage is like chunks of glass, swirling in my mouth and scouring their way down my throat. It's freaky! Also, I can't stop eating, and feel absolutely bloated. But without the frequent food I just can't keep going. I tried to nap, but was wigging from the withdrawal. Can't sleep, can't work. Emotionally on the edge. My wife gave me some Magnesium supplements, which helped, so I was able to get SOME work done. My sweet mother-in-law tells me this is normal. She was on the same chemo and steroid schedule I am on, and found the Monday after the steroids to be absolutely the worst. I get that now. I think the cancer and the chemicals amplify emotions, and things that wouldn't phase me normally are now a crisis. No tears today, but I just feel ragged. Like I am teetering.

This weekend was nice. My parents picked me up at the hospital and stayed the weekend. We went to the Beaufort airshow on Saturday, and had a great time. One of my favorite airshow performers is always the guy flying the Pitts Special S-2B- you know, the aerobatic biplane with the red sunburst paint scheme? Spectacular. Always fun to watch as they throw the plane into insane maneuvers, always in absolute control. We should all be so exceptional.

But in church Sunday, God showed me something hard. It was a red Pitts Special biplane, performing at an air show, wowing the crowd. As I watched, the wing buckled at the root and began to fold back on itself, crumpling as it flew. It was wadding itself up like a discarded paper airplane, and it began to fall from the sky...

This vision was REALLY disturbing. God, what does it mean? I prayed for safety for the pilot, but never really had the sense that it was a literal plane crash. So it must be symbolic. But God, what does it MEAN???

Sometimes God answers us right away, explaining things immediately. But sometimes He drags it out, I think maybe because he wants us to keep asking. To press in. To SEEK Him on a matter. So this morning, I was asking again. Writing in my journal. "God, what does this MEAN?" And then I opened my Bible at random, and I was staring at I Thessalonians 5:1-3, in The Message:

"I don't think, friends, that I need to deal with the question of when this is going to happen. You know as well as I that the day of the Master's coming can't be posted on our calendars. He won't call ahead and make an appointment any more than a burglar would. About the time everybody's walking around complacently, congratulating each other-- "We've sure got it made! Now we can take it easy!" -- suddenly everything will fall apart. It's going to come as suddenly and as inescapably as birth pangs to a pregnant woman."

That's what I was seeing happen to the biplane. All was as it should be. Better than great! But suddenly-- everything fell apart...

Life can be going great, and suddenly, we get blindsided. Like the woman crossing the street who drops her papers and stoops to gather them. She looks up, and a big delivery truck is on top of her. Nowhere to run. Nothing to soften the blow. Maybe you get a cancer diagnosis, or your sweet babies are born preemie and fighting for breath in the NICU. Or you lose everything in a house fire. Or your child whom you love so very desperately takes their own life instead of reaching out... Suddenly, everything falls apart. So, what are we to do in those moments? When we are blindsided and crashing, out of control? We cling to God.

I am thinking of the response of Job in Job 1:20-22, upon hearing that his fortune is lost and his children are all dead. All is lost.

At this, Job got up and tore his robe and shaved his head. Then he fell to the ground in worship and said:

"Naked I came from my mother's womb, and naked I will depart. The LORD gave, and the LORD has taken away; may the name of the LORD be praised."

In all this, Job did not sin by charging God with wrongdoing.

And what of our friends whose perfect life just crumbled? We come alongside them. Practical help is good. Food. Childcare. Laundry. Dishes. But perhaps even more importantly, just to be there. To be present. Romans 12: 15 tells us to "rejoice with those who rejoice and weep with those who weep." That preposition "WITH" implies presence.

I want to challenge each of us tonight. Hurting people are all around our circle, and most of it is hidden pretty deep. But some of us are about to crack-up, in the airshow disaster sense. And we're going to need someone to cry with us for a while.

Be present.

image by www.towerhobbies.com