Superstition Mountains, Arizona |
I arrived safely back in Kansas City last evening, after two long days of driving. So, today I drove to my new apartment and spent the afternoon unloading the camper van. I took out my clothes and the art supplies. I cleaned out the fridge and pantry. Cabinet by cabinet, I emptied my temporary home, noting to myself what I had and hadn't used in my months on the road.
It was hard to keep myself moving. It's not time to unload the van yet. I was supposed to get to skip winter this year. I was supposed to spend winter in the south. I was supposed to get to be in touch with the lengthening days, and be in beautiful places to welcome spring!
I wasn't supposed to welcome spring from a sick-bed! This WAS NOT part of the plan!
I know I'll get breaks again once this detour is complete, but it's not going to be the freedom I enjoyed for the four months I was on the road. For me, for the next ten years at least, this time in the camper was a one-time shot. No just returning to the road once whatever treatment I will need is done. It's not the new job holding me back - by that time, even if I wasn't working, I'd have run out of money, and would have to look for work if I hadn't already found it. (which means the new job is excluded from tonight's pity party; I'm grateful I have it to go to once I'm feeling better...)
Most days, I've been grateful for the time I had on the road, even though that time has been cut short, but tonight it's not working. I've done a pretty good job thus far of avoiding the "why?" questions that have no answers and lead to nowhere, but that's not working so well tonight, either. Why couldn't the damned lump have waited six months? Why?
Janice,
ReplyDeleteThere may be one good reason for you to have cancer. It certainly isn't physical though - there's nothing to point at and say, "Well, if she hadn't done that then she wouldn't have cancer." Maybe the whole point to all of this is to drive home the importance of what you've accomplished during the last 4 months. And not only for you, but through you for us all: to take time and appreciate life. Every day. Whether we're in a camper van or not. To rely on eachother's love, reach out when we're needy, and love back when we have the strength to borrow to a friend in need. I think your car wreck might just turn into a work of art, by God's own design, much like the beauty you've witnessed for the past few months. I'm darn sure there's only one reason for your cancer - to draw you closer to Him than any beautiful natural scenery could ever do. So continue to Stop. Breathe. Relax. Rest in His love, and in ours, through this journey too. You are constant in my thoughts and prayers and I love you!