Uncertainty

I love adventure, but I hate going in blind. So much so that before any trip, I will get on Google Earth and look at where I’m staying and what’s around it. Before a long drive, I will map out where I’m headed and what’s on the way. I love the ability to partially envision what’s next and where we’ll be.

We’re not able to do that right now. Nicole’s last round of chemo starts next week. We don’t know what’s next.

To be candid, there’s some fear that comes with that. When Nicole took 6 weeks to recover from her surgery, the cancer came back with a vengeance. This situation doesn’t afford us any breaks. So we wait with great anticipation to know what’s next.

I hate not knowing where we’ll be in two weeks. Will we be camped out in the hospital or comfortable at home? Will she be gaining strength back?

While I realize God is growing us in this uncertainty, it still sucks.

At the same time, you have no more certainty about your next week than we do about ours. James 4:14 says, “How do you know what your life will be like tomorrow? Your life is like the morning fog—it’s here a little while, then it’s gone.”

If anything, this nightmare has taught us that we control nothing. I can get on Google Earth before a trip all I want, but it brings no more certainty to my journey. There’s no promise that you’ll make it to this evening’s plans on your calendar.

That could be a depressing thought, or you could just go enjoy the blessing of the moment—the gift of right now.

More than ever, I’ve been enjoying seeing Nicole attend Reese’s chapel (pictured above), driving as a family to doctor appointments, or watching my wife get back to cooking…all the little ordinary stuff we missed out on this summer. We’re enjoying it now.

We may not have it for long, but instead of trying to control that fear, we’ll enjoy what we have now. Much of that enjoyment comes from you, your support of our family, and your friendship.

I hope you enjoy today. We’ll be enjoying it too.