One of the scariest things in the early days of my diagnosis is that the pathology was unclear. Best case scenario, the cancer was contained. Worst case scenario, it had spread beyond what they could imagine. This fear was heightened by the fact that all the normal tests that catch cervical cancer failed to detect mine. I was diagnosed long after they usually diagnose women. And that terrified every medical professional I saw.
I'm not a humble person. In fact, pride is a sin that I daily have to crucify. I hate my pride and its many manifestations in my life. And I want desperately to be humble, to possess humility. Because pride is an affront to the truth of the gospel, God delights in answering prayers that ask for more humility. It is in our humbling that we see our desperate need for Christ.
The women of our church recently finished a bible study on the book of James. Like the other studies we have done, this one proved fruitful in our lives and conversation. As we completed the study on Thursday night, this theme kept running through my head:
"A heart changed by Christ means a life changed by Christ."
The subject of race has been a polarizing topic in our country for longer than any of us have been alive. In many ways, the lasting effects of the racism that divided us are still entrenched in many communities. If we move into the church, we find that even among God’s people, diversity and freedom from race divisions is still a longed for reality.
Nobody likes pain. I know I don't. We hate pain so much that we do whatever we can to avoid it. We have a headache, we take ibuprofen. We get a leg cramp while running (true confession!), so we stop running. We have surgery, we go under anesthesia. As a society, we have come a long way by means of pain management.
It's true. I am a lifelong quitter. It started in adolescence when I would repeatedly sign up for activities that I really thought were my life's calling. Dance. Gymnastics. Softball. Swimming. Volleyball. It only took a short while to realize that flexibility, coordination, and athletic prowess were nowhere to be found in my gene pool. So I quit.
I have never been a very patient person. In fact, it is a constant struggle for me. I suppose I could attribute it to the fact that I am a planner and with my planning comes a regular anticipation of what is to come. My lack of patience can be in something as simple as childlike hope in a future family vacation to sinful frustration when things don't happen in the time frame I have planned.
As I've gotten older I've realized that every season of life affords us a new opportunity to better understand the character of God. Through every season we are given a greater glimpse of who he is and what he has done for us in Christ. When I was single I sensed his goodness as my all sufficient provider of all of my needs. When I got married I saw the depth of his sacrifice for me as my husband served and cared for me.
I have always struggled with anxiety and worry. The bulk of it is rooted in my sin and distrust of God. But some of it is due to my imagination. I spend my time imagining scenarios and events, rather than focusing on the here and now which holds plenty of other things to be worried about. If I have a big trip coming up I imagine all that could go wrong.
