Leave it to Fleener--H&P #5

Can it really be that another three weeks has already flown by?  I don't know about anyone else, but my March has been crazy.  Between daylight savings time, spring break, Easter break, and Easter being one right after the other, I'm ready for a new month!  

I keep getting questions about how I'm doing.  It's hard to say.  I feel well, almost like nothing has ever been wrong.  My hair is growing back, and I get compliments each day about how well it's coming back.  

"It's growing back so well!"

"Your hair looks so good!"

"How is it growing so quickly?"

"It's not curly! My so-and-so's hair grew in SO curly after chemo!"

I don't really know what else to say, but that we are doing well.  I am tired, I still have pain, and I have a few minor reactions to my cancer-fighting drugs, but as long as they are still fighting-cancer, we plow forward.  Day by day, week by week, I get a little stronger and my hair gets a little longer.  (here's proof!)  

I recently read an article that perfectly described my new normal now.  It explained how having cancer puts a dark cloud over your head that never goes away.  That got me thinking: sure, it's not always stormy or pouring rain, but the cancer cloud is always there.  Something a person without q cancer cloud might find "normal" could be a red flag for someone standing under the cloud of cancer.  No sore muscle, sore throat, or other pain can be simply brushed aside anymore.  Being strong or tough or pushing through is not an option now.  I can't ever just forget about something anymore because that something that might easily be forgotten in someone else's mind could potentially be cancer rearing its ugly head again for me.  

However, just because this dark cloud is overhead, that doesn't mean the sun isn't shining.  The cloud is there, but not so close that that it clouds my view.   There are patches of blue skies and even rainbows now and then.   It's not raining now, even if the forecast tells of possible storms ahead. I'm carrying an umbrella, but have not needed to pull it out for weeks.  Perhaps those weeks will turn into months and years, but I'm prepared if they don't. That's my new normal now: living with the dark cloud of cancer hovering over my head, but trying to see beyond to sunny skies over the horizon and being thankful that it is simply overcast, not pouring rain.

Again, I am reminded of the "mists of darkness" described in the story of the Tree of Life (see 1 Ne 8 & 12).

And the mists of darkness are the temptations of the devil, which blindeth the eyes, and hardeneth the hearts of the children of men, and leadeth them away into broad roads, that they perish and are lost. (1 Ne 12: 17)

Cancer is not the only condition that bring along a permanent dark cloud. 

There are other terminal diseases that hang dark clouds overhead.    

Clouds of addiction linger long after the behavior has ceased.

Anxiety and depression can form together stormy skies.  

Broken hearts, betrayal, and great loss leave storms in their path.  

Each of us must overcome some dark clouds of life.  Some dispel quickly; others linger over a lifetime.  

Dark clouds in life do not always forecast a life full of darkness.    There is hope; there is help:  

...I also beheld a strait and narrow path, which came along by the rod of iron, even to the tree by which I stood...And I saw numberless concourses of people, many of whom were pressing forward, that they might obtain the path which led unto the tree by which I stood....and they came forth and caught hold of the end of the rod of iron; and they did press forward through the mist of darkness, clinging to the rod of iron...(see 1 Nephi 8:20-24, emphasis added).

As I was reading this last night with my children, it occurred to me that I had never before paid attention to what seems to be "normal" life for the majority of us.  We are pressing forward, trying JUST TO GET ON THE RIGHT PATH!! Enduring life's ups and downs and learning step-by-step are ways to be pressing forward, enduring, that we "might obtain the path," the correct path.  It seems once a person has found what's right, has made it to the truth, or "caught hold of the end of the rod," then BAM!, there arises "a mist of darkness."  

Most of life is filled with simply pressing forward, trying to blaze a trail through the dark clouds, hoping that the path is still the right path, praying that there is light beyond the fog.  All the while, those who have made it through are cheering us forward, hoping we will learn from their mistakes, that our time in the darkness might be easier than theirs.  We are promised that God loves us and His light is shining beyond the clouds, and we can feel the warmth of his love if we just hold on and press on.  But how do you know this is true if you can never see beyond the storms of life? Just how DO you develop that kind of faith????  How DOES one learn not to question God's love every time another door slams shut or another painful or frightening event comes your way?  

That is the great question of life; the one science is eager to prove, the one faith argues that the answer has already been given, and we must simply believe and keep moving forward.  Life presses on, the sun rises each day, even if all we can see is clouds.  How much better the view if we have the faith to see the light in spite of the storms.             

Any number of mists of darkness are constantly before us in mortality, and it might be difficult to overcome or to hope for the sun to ever shine again.  

However, the promise of the Easter season tells that even when it seems as if the sun refuses to shine, the SON will always be the light and the life that can overcome any clouds of darkness.  When storms hang low over the length of mortality, the hope of new day, a new life rises just over the horizon because of Him.  When our faith, our hope, and the reason for our love is placed in Christ, no dark cloud will ever dark enough to block all the light from life.