Sweet and Sour Life

"Life is pain, Highness. Anyone who says differently is selling something."

- The Princess Bride

Sometimes it takes a diagnosis like cancer to remind us of the fact that life is not easy. Too often, we try to insulate ourselves from the pain, suffering, and sorrow that are tragic realities in our broken world. Jesus didn't mince words when it came to suffering. "I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world." (John 16:33)

One thing I've learned about myself over time is that I try everything I can to avoid pain. Whether physical or emotional, I try to avoid it at just about any cost. That's why I hate running and working out. That's why I avoid conflict as much as possible. Obviously, nobody WANTS to actively seek out being in pain. But often there is good that only comes through pain. And very often, life itself IS painful. And from a Christian perspective, avoiding suffering is to avoid the Christ who suffered. I hope one day I can grow to say with the Apostle Paul: "I want to know Christ—yes, to know the power of his resurrection and participation in his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, and so, somehow, attaining to the resurrection from the dead." (Phil 3:10-11)

Thankfully, thus far my physical pain has been manageable. The days after chemo brought some pretty bad bone aches, fatigue, and one nasty headache that I still haven't quite shaken. The most persistent side effect so far has been intense nerve sensitivity and jaw pain when I eat and drink - like everything I'm eating is ridiculously sour and spikes the nerves in my tongue and jaw.

Life can be pretty sour sometimes. But life is also sweet.

Another facet of myself I've learned is that I'm at my healthiest when sober - sober in the sense of being able to honestly look at the world around me as it is, in all it's joys and agonies, and participate in both the beauty and sorrow. Finding joy in simple things. Seeing life for the gift that it is. Cancer is certainly sobering. It makes you keenly aware of how fragile life is, even when you're (relatively) young. But it has also made me sober to the joy of life.

Yesterday morning, I had enough energy to take the boys to a playground at the beach that overlooks the airport. As they ran around, dug holes, squealed at airplanes taking off and landing, I sat on the beach. I felt the sun on my face and the sand in my fingers. I couldn't help but feel grateful. Grateful for each moment. Sober to the simple joys of sun, sand, water, and kids playing. God is present in those moments too. As the hymn says, he is the "wellspring of the joy of living, the ocean depth of happy rest." He is life. And it's good to be alive.

Oh, and my daughter now has the cutest little pig tails in the history of the world.