The End Of Chapter Two

The end of this chapter could not be more welcome. It was a surprise, a brilliant one at that, when I was told that I will be able to leave the hospital tomorrow. Originally, due to the intense antibiotic regime, it was looking like I would not be able to have a break from the hospital at all and they would just start cycle three when they were ready to. But now I get a break, probably for a week; could be slightly more. I still have to come back to the hospital everyday though to have IV antibiotics but at least it is just once a day as oppose to six.

What a ride. When I leave tomorrow, I will have been in here for fifty days exactly; a new record for me but one I have no intention of breaking. What started off as being an uneventful non interventional cycle turned into one big mess. Funny how the winds can change like that. When I look back on the events of the last fifty days it feels like a dream; it feels like someone elses life. I can't believe I endured what I did, but that in itself is a testimony to God's providence and strength; without Him, I am nothing. There has been great pain in this cycle, both physical and emotional, with hard choices still to be made. Oddly, I have peace about it; a peace that sinks deep into my soul. In a strange way, what has happened has become normalised and I don't feel devastated or destroyed. I now know that the darkest times are yet to come, but for now I shall live to find the diamonds of joy that each day brings. God has brought me through this far and I have no reason to believe that He won't continue to drag me through, albeit kicking and screaming, what is to come. If there is one thing I've learned this cycle, it is that no matter how desperate life gets, it is God who is in control. What is more, the safest place to be is under His wing so that is where I will stay.

The Real Rock And The Hard Place

I wrote this post on Wednesday 24th April - just like the last post, I needed some time and space before I shared this part of my journey with you

So it would seem that being infertile was the least of my problems. I have just had my appointment to discuss a bone marrow transplant. They are looking at giving me cells from umbilical cord blood and there is a potential match available. Good news over. I didn't realise how harrowing the process was going to be. The actual transplant itself isn't bad, it is just like a blood transfusion, it is just everything else. The purpose of the transplant is to give me a whole new immune system. A week before they give the transplant, they will give me a week of chemotherapy and radiotherapy. The purpose of this is to give the transplant the best chance of adhering to my bone marrow. After they having given the transplant, I will be incredibly vulnerable to infections, more so than I am now, and it is for this reason that I will be kept in isolation for a month. It is highly likely that I will get infections during this time, which will have to be treated aggressively. Other likely side effects include vomiting and diarrhoea, and the transplant rejecting my body - because I am getting a whole new immune system, this immune system could decide my body is foreign and it will then attack all my organs. As well as the risk of other cancers developing, other long term side effects include, debilitating diarrhoea, recurrent infection, infertility and early menopause and relapse of the cancer.

Get ready for some statistics, there are some shockers:

Best Case Scenario

Chances of cure with transplant: 60%

Chances of cure without transplant: 30%

Chances of death during transplant: 20%

Worst Case Scenario

Chances of cure with transplant: 30%

Chances of death during transplant: 60%

I am currently in the worst case scenario category due to the complications I have such as the Infective Endocarditis. Sobering statistics aren't they. There is also a chance that I can relapse within the first three months of having a transplant. If this happens, it will mean that my condition is terminal. However, if I reach the two year mark without relapsing, it is unlikely that I will relapse with this particular cancer in the future. The hope is that, by the time it comes to having the transplant, I will be in the best case scenario category because my current complications would have resolved and hopefully the genetic abnormality that is causing the cancer would have gone.

So I don't really know what to do. I have a month to decide so I guess I need some time to think about it, and I need to see what happens with the results of the bone marrow biopsy and the infection. I was trying to think about what scares me most about this whole transplant process. There are lots of things, mainly the long term side effects. Dying during the transplant doesn't scare me, it is the effect that it will have on my family and friends that does. Even though I would hate to have chronic pain and disabilities, the thing that scares me the most is that I would become bitter as a result of it. I know that must sound strange, but I guess  what I've realised is that the thing that makes life bearable, whether you have life catastrophes or not, is joy. If it wasn't for knowing God, I would have no joy, I would be a bitter old hag. 

To be honest, I don't know what to do. I think that if my risks move more in line with best case scenario then I will have the transplant; if they stay the same as they are now then I won't take the transplant. But I am really unsure; all I can do is pray for clarity. The future seems very scary and the storm that I thought couldn't get any worse has risen to the challenge. I hope and pray that there will be a turning point, an end to this sickness in this lifetime. Even though my life seems like such a mess, I know God is looking after me. Whatever happens, I will trust Him.

Blood Is Thicker Than Water

I wrote this post on Monday 22nd April - just needed some time and space before I shared this with you.

I can't have children. Words cannot describe how this feels, it is like being kicked in the stomach; devastating does not suffice. They say you always have a choice; in my case it is a choice between a rock and a hard place. It is the bone marrow transplant that will make me infertile. Be careful what you wish for, a bone marrow transplant isn't looking so appealing right now. I was hoping that maybe I could take my chances and not have the transplant. If the cancer came back, then I would go through chemotherapy again and then have the transplant. Unfortunately, I am told that if the cancer relapses, it will be significantly more aggressive and harder to treat. So if I have the transplant, then I will be infertile and run the additional risk of developing other cancers, but if I don't take the treatment I run the risk of this cancer relapsing and not being cured. A rock and a hard place.

Since the first cancer, it has always been in the back of my mind that I may not be able to have children, as I'm sure you've gathered from my previous posts, but I did always hope. I have friends who can't have children either but I never understood what that felt like, I couldn't emotionally go there. I absolutely adore children and have always wanted to be a mum. There is so much going through my head; most of which I know is not true but the pain is still felt in my heart. The thought of not being able to carry my own child is grievous. It is not only the fact that I won't be able to have children, it's knowing that my husband won't be able to either. I know this is not true, but it somehow feels like my fault. Does this make me less of a female? I know the answer is no but the thought of going into early menopause and having to take hormone replacement therapy for the next thirty odd years feels like my femininity is being robbed. 

I've always liked the concept of adoption and I think it's because it is incredibly biblical. When you are a Christian you have been chosen to be adopted into the family of God and you become His son or daughter; you have all the same rights, and responsibilities I should add, of a child of natural decent. An adopted child of God is not born to God in blood, as in a natural birth with a mother, but we have been bought by blood. In order that we could become children of God, Jesus had to die on the cross, thereby shedding His blood, so that we could be purchased from the jaws of eternal death. In a similar way, if one day, I have the privilege of adopting a child, that child would have been chosen by us to be our child. That child, who started life by being rejected for whatever reason, will be redeemed and forevermore know a life of love. It is true that my child would not have been born of my blood, but that doesn't make him or her any less of my child or any less loved and wanted. The beautiful thing is, when you are adopted, there is no difference between blood and water.

It'll Be Alright On The Night

"And you must always remember there's one good thing about being trapped down here: It'll save funeral expenses." Puddleglum The Marshwiggle

For those of you who have read The Chronicles of Narnia, you would have already become acquainted with this delightful and hope inspiring character Puddleglum from The Silver Chair. He is known for his spectacular ability to fixate on the worse case scenario while putting a crass positive spin on it which has the effect of making the situation seem even more hopeless. 

I've been thinking about the concept of worst case scenarios recently and I have come to the conclusion that such a thing does not exist. Why? It is because no matter how big the disaster you encounter or can conjure up in your mind, it could always be worse. I have to admit, that the worst case scenario often springs to mind when I am faced with a hard situation.  Granted, not every disaster I have thought about has come true, but quite a few significant ones have. 

When I am faced with a new symptom of unknown diagnosis, I automatically run through a list of possible diagnosis it could be. It is just how I'm wired. I don't think it is wrong nor do I think it is harmful. I would like to suggest that the harm is in fixating on the outcome be it good or bad. You can't control the thoughts that come to mind but you can control what you do with them. There is a difference between accepting that something is wrong and then grieving, and being overcome by it. When I was told that I had an infection and I was told what bacteria was grown, Infective Endocarditis automatically made it onto my list of differential diagnosis even before the doctor discussed it with me. It was a pretty big blow even before the official diagnosis. I did hope and pray that it was not, but my prayers would always end with an acknowledgment that God is in control and He will make everything alright. But that did not mean I was expecting Him to take away the current suffering, it meant that the outcome of my current situation isn't the issue. He makes everything alright by giving me the faith, strength, peace and grace to cope with whatever comes my way. The problem with setting your hopes on a positive outcome is that it is not grounded, it is false hope. The problem with convincing yourself that the outcome is negative is that you will be miserable and will become bitter. Trying to convince myself that the outcome will be positive is just as futile as convincing myself that the outcome will be negative because the future is unknown to me.

The cancers that my body has had to endure along with its complications is likely to have long lasting effects. There is no organ of my body that will not be effected either in the short term or long term. I have played through the scenario in my head of what it would be like if a major complication were to occur, say for example, not being able to have children, and it hurts. The truth is that this could happen. I don't know what the outcome will be. But there is one thing I do know. God always has my best interests at heart because He is a loving father. When I chose to follow Him, I gave Him my life. Often, I have cried to Him and asked Him how much more will He take from me? But when I think about the sacrifice He made and the price He paid so that I could have a relationship with Him, that storm in my heart is calmed as I realise that giving my whole life over to God and allowing Him to do what He will with it will never come close to the sacrifice He made for me. That is how He makes everything alright. This is where the peace lies. When we entrust our hopes and dreams to the One who loves us more than words can describe, we find peace because the trust in God as a loving Father who always works for the good of His children trumps everything else.

The phrase It'll Be Alright On The Night is interesting because it assumes that hardship and disasters will occur right up to the dress rehearsal. But ultimately, when the curtains rise and the show is performed for real, things will go well. Life is the disastrous rehearsals, but when it comes to show time, when we meet our Maker, it will be alright on the night.

Called To Be Single?

It feels like I'm taking a huge risk in writing this, but then again what's there to lose? It's not like I'm pouring my heart out to hundreds of people across the world. I had an interesting conversation yesterday that has sparked these thoughts. I was talking to a christian lady about being single; she had a very compelling story to tell. She has taken temporary vows to be single. Now, I have never heard of this before, so after enquiring she told me that it was an intermediate vow you took to committing to be single, before you made the final vow later; this is to give you time to test and make sure you have been called by God to be single. I guess you could liken it to the difference between getting engaged and getting married. 

She told me how when she was younger she desperately wanted to be married but nothing seemed to happen. Eventually she got to a point when she started to re-evaluate the concept of answered prayer. God always answers prayer; the answer is always yes, no or later. Often we only think that God has answered our prayer when the answer is yes. But maybe we would subject ourselves to significantly less grief if we accepted the answers of  no or later. Eventually she got to the point where she could ask the question "Has God called me to be single?" and now she is in the process of seriously testing this call.

There were a few things in her story that resonated with my and quite a lot that just put fear into my heart. I don't want to remain single and the thought of it scares me. I remember a few years ago, genuinely saying to God that if He wanted me to be single for the rest of my life then so be it. After I had given that over to God I felt a sense of joy. I look back at that event and kick myself; what if God actually does take me up on that offer, what have I done! But when I reflect on that event further I remember that my motivation and subsequent joy arose from my desire of wanting to submit everything in my life to God; even the most important things to me. I have often prayed to God that if He would call me to a life of singleness that He would give me peace about it and enable me to follow that path. I have not received that peace and so I have always taken this to mean that the answer is later. But then, maybe I am just trying to find a loophole,  maybe what happened all those years ago was a glimpse of what is to come. Only time will tell.

I do often try to figure out why I am single and I know that many of my single female friends have the same thoughts. The first thought is that is there something wrong with me. The next thought is am I being too fussy? After that, my mind wanders and thinks do I need to go somewhere where I am more likely to meet someone? The final thought that goes through my head is am I supposed to be single? I normally counteract all these thoughts by telling myself that what will happen will happen according to God's will; but it does feel like a bit of a cop out.

There is a possibility that I'm refusing to listen to an answer of no, but I don't feel I'm called to be single. I do desire to be a wife and a mother but the hope of that coming to pass is fading especially given my current circumstance. People say to me that I will get out of hospital and this will be over eventually but do I really know that for sure? I don't know what lies around the corner; I don't know how long I'm going to be in hospital for. I used to think that at least I will get a couple of weeks out between cycles but given the recent infection, I'm likely to miss my window out. But even when I do get out, I find it almost impossible to have a proper deep and meaningful conversation with anyone because there are so many people I want to talk to.

Singleness is often despised and mocked, but the truth is that being single is no less meaningful than being married. Taking a vow of singleness is just as binding as a vow of marriage. I don't know if the answer to my question is no or later but I can only pray for the courage to ask the question and be ready to accept the answer. It's not going to happen overnight, but I trust God to handle me with care and give me the faith and peace that I need for whatever lies ahead.

One Way Street

Give and take. It is a well established and accepted partnership. If you give to others in whatever capacity, then it is deemed acceptable to take or receive; you've earned it. Taking, without its counterpart, is frowned upon; however giving selflessly is praised and regarded as sacrificial. Giving and taking is supposed to be a two way street. 

I've always struggled with this concept practically. From a very young age I assumed the role of the Giver. I enjoy giving and meeting other peoples needs; I guess knowing that I have done something good to help someone else gives me a sense of purpose and maybe makes me think that I'm not such a bad person. I find it hard to accept help or gifts from others. When I have received from others it has always been accompanied by as sense of guilt and a need to pay them back somehow. When I really need help and have no option but to accept, part of me feels like I've failed. I have always been fiercely independent, priding myself on my ability to cope with the curve balls of life on my own. I guess I didn't truly trust anyone to help me; at some point people will always fail you and that wasn't a risk I could afford to take. I think in a way, I had also adopted a mentality of survival of  the fittest; if I couldn't deal with a situation then I had lost the game.

This mentality is posing a problem for my current situation. There is no way I can go through cancer on my own. I am limited physically making practical issues a challenge such as washing and dressing, walking, getting food etc. I find it difficult, even when I'm in hospital to ask for help; I dislike having to ask the nurses to get things for me when I can't manage myself. I have been overwhelmed by the support, care and encouragement I have received from those around me. There is no way I can pay back such kindness and generosity and the words "Thank You" are so pitifully inadequate in expressing my gratitude. 

Sometimes I think it is easier to receive from God than it is from people. I think it's because I can't physically see God or maybe I don't fully appreciate the gifts that He gives. But when I think about it more deeply, I catch myself trying to pay God back by maybe doing good things; as if that would stop me being indebted to Him. But the truth is, there is nothing I can give to God that isn't already His. I can't earn His love nor can I pay God back for dying on the cross for me so that I can have a relationship with Him. For someone who likes to give in return, this is mind blowing. All I can do is to take, to receive and in gratefulness, honour him. 

Travelling on the One Way Street of receiving is hard because it requires me to be humble, acknowledge my need for help and relinquish my false sense of super woman independence. I am learning this lesson slowly, very slowly, but it is an important lesson to learn. Giving is important, not in order to pay back, but in order to reflect God's endless generosity and loving heart. When we give like God gives we share a piece of His heart and we find joy and freedom. 

Two Faced

Being two faced has never been considered to be a desirable characteristic; nobody aspires to being hypocritical and deceitful. I have two faces but not in the traditional sense of the word. As I'm sure you've noticed, most of my blog posts deal with issues that are heavy and at times, troubling  But there is a disparity between how I'm portrayed in my posts and how I come across in person. If you've never met me, then I would guess the view you would have of me is of someone who is consumed by issues concerning life and death. However, for those of you that know me, even during the tough times, you know me as a bubbly smiley person who laughs a lot. These are my two faces; the Emo and the Chipper Chipmunk.

So is one face fake? I've thought about this question for many years and I've finally come to the conviction that the answer is no. Rightly or wrongly, I haven't quite decided yet, I have always operated in this way; being cheerful amongst people and contemplative in private. I have always found it easy to talk openly about the emotions I'm going through when times are hard, but I never emotionally connect with what I'm saying. I talk about it in such a way that makes it look like I'm not really struggling because I'm still smiling and being cheerful. Typically, in the past, this has meant that I've often struggled in silence. It was a coping mechanism; being happy was a way to escape and forget the pain of suffering for a short while.

The Emo and the Chipper Chipmunk are two sides of the same coin; they are held together in tension. Allow me to explain. My last post, Dead Man Walking, concerning birthdays was a way for me to work through some of the pain I was feeling about being in hospital over my birthday. But what I didn't tell you is that, despite being in hospital, to my surprise, I really did enjoy my birthday. I spent it with some very dear friends and relished their company; it was a celebration of friendship for which I am deeply thankful for. The feeling of joy I had on that day was very real and true, but at the same time, held in tension, was pain that needed to be worked through and grieved. The grief that I felt did not diminish the joy of that day, nor did the joy of that day diminish the grief I felt.This is what I use my blogs for; to work through painful issues, allow myself to grieve and allow myself to be healed. I find at the moment that my emotions and feelings are not as clear cut as they have been in the past. Currently, I probably function on a level of bitter-sweet. But I think that's ok. I guess if I was happy all the time then I would be in denial and if I was sad all the time I would be depressed. I am neither. I'm an Emo Chipmunk.

Dead Man Walking

Birthday: noun; the anniversary of the day on which a person was born, typically treated as an occasion for celebration and the giving of gifts - Oxford Dictionary. Or, if you think about it, the day you are born, your birthday, is also the start of your journey to death. As on death row, dead man walking is your status.

I find the idea of celebrating your own birthday a bit egocentric. It is a day when people congratulate you for being alive and give you presents. It's not like the achievement of being alive, let alone being born, is yours to claim. Maybe such an achievement should be credited to your parents. But then, on the other hand, not even they can truly claim to be the giver of life, only the conduit. Celebrating a birthday seems pointless and morbid - it's just one step closer to death.

I was twenty-six years old yesterday. The day before my birthday, I was taken down to theatre to have a picc line put into my arm so they would be able to give me the medicine I need without a cannula. The staff down there said to me, "Oh, it's your birthday soon, happy birthday for tomorrow". I smiled politely and thanked them while in my head all I could think was I have cancer for the second time in three years, I have infective endocarditis, I'm in hospital over my birthday and I'm not even allowed out of my room. What exactly is there to be happy about.

But what exactly is there to be happy about? Maybe that is the point. Maybe the point of birthdays is to be thankful. Thankful, not for what you've done, but for the life you have been given. I find it hard sometimes to be thankful that I'm alive and the phrase "cursed is the day that I was born" springs to mind. But the gift of being alive and having the opportunity to have a relationship with God is a priceless gift regardless of the circumstances that occur in this life. 

Why are we only thankful in general, and to God in particular, when life is going well? Why are we bitter and resentful to God when life is going pear shaped? I think the fact that we exhibit this fickle behaviour says something about how we view God and His purpose. It says that God, to us, is like a vending machine. We put our "money" in, be it living a good morale life, saying our routine prayers, going to church; and then we expect our "chocolate bar" out. But if our chocolate bar gets stuck in the machine or we get something we didn't want instead, we get angry and we might even try to put more money in or even rock the machine in order to force its' hand.

God is not a vending machine. Nor does He yield to the consumer culture we have come to demand. He is the Creator, He is King and has dominion over the Heavens and the earth. He is Lord over all. Being thankful to God for the life on this earth given to us is not about being thankful for the good gifts we have, although that is part of it, but it is about being thankful to Him for who He is and the fact that we have the chance to know Him personally. No matter how many times you curse the day you were born, knowing God and suffering in this life is by far the better deal compared to not coming into existence. Why? It is because, if you so choose, suffering is finite and a life with God is infinite. Sadly, the converse is also true; life with God can be finite and suffering can be infinite.

When you decide that you want to know God personally, you get a second birthday, you are born again. Our first birthday is when we are born physically, but our body will eventually perish and cease to exist. Our second birthday concerns our soul. Our soul is the part of us that in this life communicates with God; unlike our body, our soul is eternal, it will never cease to exist. If we make the choice, in this life, to know God, then our soul is born into relationship with God. Our soul exists regardless if we make this choice or not, the difference is whether your soul is in relationship with God or not.

So why should I celebrate my birthday? Apart from God, there is no point; I am just a Dead Man Walking. With God, I am a Dead Man Walking Into Life.

Stormy Seas

So yesterday I had a CT scan of my lungs to check if there was a blood clot in them, which thankfully there was not. The next thing that had to happen was that they needed to remove my Hickman line. This was going to be tricky because the line itself had a clot in it and care needed to be taken. This was awful. The procedure normally takes about thirty minutes, but in my case it took two hours. It was carried out in my room at the bedside. To remove the line, they had to open up the skin and soft tissue on my chest wall, and then remove the line by cutting the tissue around it that was encasing it. This was done under local anesthetic, so I was awake, but I must have been cut five or six times on parts of my skin that hadn't had the local anesthetic on it. There was blood everywhere, even the nurse looked like she was about to faint. Eventually, when the line was taken and I was put back together, they had to press on the site for another hour and a half to stop the bleeding.

So what's the plan now? Well unfortunately, they are pretty sure I have something called Infective Endocarditis. Basically, it means I have an infection in my heart caused by a specific bacteria. I have a clot on one of the walls inside my heart that carries that bacteria. They need to give me IV antibiotics for a month which I will have to stay in hospital for. The problem with this is that I'm going to miss my window where I can get out of the hospital for a couple of weeks before the start of the next cycle because they can't really delay the treatment regime. 

So I am a bit gutted about the whole thing. I was so relieved that the chemotherapy treatment had gone so well, I never expected something like this to happen.  When I think about the fact that I'm not getting out of here for a long time, I feel numb and maybe a bit angry. It feels very unfair. The future looks bleak filled with nothingness. I don't think that the emotional trauma of the last week has properly hit me, but I know it will in time. But I guess this is the part of the storm where the I will need to trust that the anchor will sustain me. Time will tell how the story plays out.

The Plot Thickens

Following the news that I was getting better with regards to the infection that I've had over the last week, I was given some unfortunate news following a scan of my heart today. I have a Hickmen line in which is a tube that they have tunneled under my skin and enters my heart. They use this line to give me the chemotherapy that I need and medicines. Unfortunately, they have found a clot on the tip of my line which is sitting in my heart. There are two problems with this. Firstly, some of the bacteria that has caused the infection will be sitting in that clot and will not be able to be treated by the antibiotics. Secondly, if that clot breaks off from the line it will go to my lungs which is very bad. So tomorrow they will take out my line. It is a slightly more tricky procedure than usual because they have to make sure they don't break the clot when they take out the line.

So how am I feeling? Not great. I am very apprehensive about tomorrow but also getting quite fed up of this onslaught of complications. I'm still not allowed out of my room so I'm getting restless and now this is likely to lengthen my stay in hospital. I guess the hardest part is not knowing when all of this is going to end and if there are any more horrors to come. I can't bring my self to be optimistic for fear of let down nor can I bring myself to be pessimistic for the pain that it brings in the moment. So I'm stuck in this weird emotional limbo not quite knowing what to do with myself. Can I just say how much I hate pain. I really hate pain and I hate feeling uncomfortable and not being able to find rest. To be honest, I think that is one of the main things that is playing on my mind.

I guess there is nothing more I can really say. Even though the situation is quite bad, it could always be worse and I'm not privy to what God is sheltering me from. I can only continue to trust that He will look after me. It is a hard thing to trust when your in a situation but the other option is despair; I think I'll go for trust.

Against All Odds

The story of my life. But not in the way you might expect. Normally, when this expression is used it is in the context of the underdog succeeding despite the abysmal circumstances. In the scenario of the underdog to win, there must be another character who is the favourite to win but somehow looses to the underdog despite the odds. In the story of my life, I play the character who looses to the underdog.

When I look back at my life, I am completely confounded as to how my life ended up the way it has. Growing up, I was always financially provided for. I had a good education, attained good grades, was well rounded in extra curricular activities, excelled in my two main sports karate and trampolining achieving medals in major competitions in the latter, had the privilege of studying biology and psychology in the University of St Andrews and then going on to study medicine at the University of Leeds. With that profile, it would seem like the perfect recipe for success. But there is a variable that hasn't been accounted for that flipped the tables - life. Good old messy life.

While on the face of things, life seemed like it should have been going well, the reality was very different. During my childhood, I was bullied, plagued by low self worth and failure, carried burdens too great to bare, had regular panic attacks and by the age of fourteen was diagnosed with clinical depression and thought the world would be better off if I was dead. My teenage years was marked largely by complicated family dynamics, my struggle with depression and trying to achieve academically while failing at every hurdle.  When I left home at eighteen to go to the University of St Andrews I was followed by the failure and the shame of not achieving the grades I needed to be accepted onto the medical degree programme. In the two years I was there, I made two further applications to medicine which was when I finally got accepted to Leeds. However, there was always a part of me that regretted leaving when I did. Even though I did receive a Diploma of Higher Education, I had failed to complete the four year degree course that I had intended to. But what was more painful, was the fact that I was leaving all my friends and going somewhere where, once again, I would be on my own.

My time in Leeds was anything but a walk in the park. I became severely depressed, failed my first year exams which resulted in me being held back a year, had a job which gave me severe chronic back pain for six months, was in a soul destroying relationship which left me feeling broken and unlovable, had a major operation on my ankle, got cancer and left university, had a very brief car crash of a relationship, went back into university while trying to emotionally process the ordeal of the last six months of treatment, had another operation on my ankle, eventually got into fourth year of medicine and then got cancer again. So that is the story of my life to date. Marvellous.

When I was younger I used to think that in a parallel universe there would be another me enjoy and sailing through here life while I was left to endure all the rubbish to balance things out. Just my luck. But then, it isn't actually about luck nor is it about odds. I'm no statistician, despite the endless painful stats lectures that were endure by myself and fellow countrymen, but I think that if you were to work out the odds for the series of events in my life to have occurred starting with the moment I was given life, I think they would be close to impossible; definitely not worth betting on that's for sure.

I guess the way I'm feeling right now, after a long weekend of suffering with a terrible infection, this is exactly how I feel. After each disaster had passed previously I would think that surely that this would be the last catastrophic event and there will be a turning point. If this is what the first twenty five, well almost twenty six, years of my life have been like, what on earth is in store ahead. If I'm honest, I don't think I really believe that there will be a turning point for me, well not in this life anyway.

I'm on a ward where people between the ages of 18-30 are being told that their cancer is incurable or that they need to have their leg amputated or that they will never have children, the list is endless. There is so much death and suffering here and it is almost unbearable to talk about the saving grace of God through Jesus Christ with this back drop. But the thing is God is our turning point. What the world sees as treasures is worthless to God and what the world sees as useless, God sees as priceless. There is something far greater at stake with odds that would make any gamers' mouth water. The chance to live for ever in a perfect world where there is no sickness, suffering, pain or death; just pure bliss beyond contemplation with our creator. But would you take the gamble even if would cost you everything even your life as you know it? Some might say well of course you would forever is a really long time and eighty years is nothing really in comparison . But imagine you had no money, or was starving or experienced a life of unyielding suffering. Would you really take the gamble or would you say that there is still a chance that the horse favourite to win might lose, despite the the impenetrable odds?

Everyone has something to lose with this gamble; the loss will either be worldly or heavenly. When Jesus said "Take up your cross and follow me" He was saying that there is a great cost to following Him, after all, in effect He was carrying His death sentence on His back. He willingly gave up His life and endure the most horrendous type of suffering so that whoever wants to can live forever in relationship with God with no more pain. At some point
, we will all be given the choice, what will you lose and what will you gain? 

A Wee Update

I have just had the worst five days since cycle one. On good Friday, I suddenly became very ill due to an infection through my body. I can not describe to you how awful it has been; it brought me to tears several times. Physically I am much better than I was comparatively but I still feel absolutely exhausted and I am in source isolation. Also my hair started falling out very rapidly which was a bit of a shock because I was just beginning to think I had got away with it; it won't take to much longer until I'm completely bald. Emotionally, this has hit me hard but that's normal. Hopefully things will continue to improve rapidly.

Work Work Work

They say that if you do a job that you love, you will never work a day in your life. But why do we have to work in the first place? Even if you do love your job, you will still have days when you wish you could just pack it all in. Ok, so I guess the bills need to be paid and mouths need to be fed, but is that the fundamental reason for why we work?

I like work. Not all work, just the work I like. I like working with people and I like the satisfaction of getting a job done well. I like jobs which can be completed and I hate work that is never ending  I guess I am generally quite driven and motivated; if I put my mind to something, it will get done.

Currently, I am not working as a student or an employee and it is driving me insane. In the past, I have thought that if I came into a whole load of money which would mean that I wouldn't have to work, then I would be quite happy. I then realised that my mind started to wander and think about all the new projects I could start up with all the money I had which is when I realised that my drive to work must be more than just money. This stint in hospital has only just confirmed it.

I guess, to some extent, I find purpose and meaning in work, I feel useful because I am contributing using the skill set that I have been given. But, so people tell me, this is an opportunity to rest and recover. So this is my question, how exactly do you do that? Does it mean that I have to lie in bed all day? Does it mean that I need to do what I enjoy? Well, I enjoy working but that is not an option. But then maybe it is. It is probably dependant on how you define work. In some respects, writing this blog is both work and not work. It is work in so far as I have decided that I would start this project and see it through to completion. But, in another way, I don't think it is work because it doesn't feel like it.

I think there are two extremes in attitude towards work which most of us are carry out and a wise middle ground which a few land on. Sluggard and Workaholic. Being a sluggard has never been an issue for me but being a workaholic has been/intermittently is. The consequences of not resting for me have been catastrophic in the past leading to burnout and severe depression. I tend not to rest until it is forced upon me ie when I have crashed and burned. By that point, the ship has sailed for rest and it is recovery that needs to happen which is different and takes energy in itself.

For me, resting requires organisation and discipline. I need to organise my rest time so that I do something that I know will refresh me - if I sit in front of the TV for a whole day as my rest day then I will definitely feel depressed by the end of it. Resting requires discipline because it is very easy to let other commitments which masquerade as higher priority to invade time that has been set aside for rest. Ideally I would like to be able to set aside one day a week for rest but that isn't quite practical for me. Realistically, I could probably manage one day a month, but even that is a challenge. I think the challenge for work and rest lies in finding the right rhythm to life, as oppose to a jerky stop start approach.  I guess it is similar to clutch control in a car - when you first start to learn, gear changes are very jerky and stalling is common; but as you get more practice gear changes become seamless. For me, I'm probably still at the stalling stage, so I guess I'm going to have to continue working at resting.

Fish Bowl

Tomorrow is my last day of treatment of chemotherapy for this cycle. In comparison to last cycle, this one has been a walk in the park. At the risk of a premature celebration, I haven't vomited once, my brain hasn't swelled up and I haven't been put into source isolation. I've felt a bit nauseous and fatigued, but that has been  it - the physical side has been reasonably easy. But I have struggled emotionally this time round. With cycle one, I was unconscious for the majority of it so time seemed to pass quickly. This week has felt like it has dragged on for a very long time. My days have been dictated by my chemotherapy schedule and there is no escaping it. 

I feel like I'm living in a fish bowl- bigger than your standard gold fish bowl, but nowhere near as big as the sea. I move around in the space that I have getting glimpses of the outside world I was taken from; a cruel reminder of what once was. Like a fish would play with a ball and hoop, in my tank there are things that I can do to keep myself occupied, but it is meaningless. The hope that this will be over eventually is followed by the realisation that eventually could be a really long time. I cling to the hopes and dreams that I hold dear, desperately trying to stop them from turning into fiction, trying to believe that all is not lost, that one day, they will come to pass.  I move around my tank to give the illusion of purpose. But when I can kid myself no more, I stop and find myself deflated, empty and wanting.

They say God never leaves us or forsakes us, well, He actually says that himself. But I feel disconnected from Him, as if He were in some far away distant place. I know in my head that He is near, but that seems to make no difference to my heart or how I feel. I often wonder why it is that I can seem so far away from God when He is actually by my side. I have come to the conclusion that it is something to do with me. There are times when I know that I feel disconnected from God because I am living in a way that is against Him - if I turn my back on God then it is logical that I will feel disconnected unless He intervenes. In other times, including now, I think I feel far from God because I am consumed by the heaviness of my circumstance and have lost sight of God's fatherly love for me. It is not wrong to grieve. it is part of healing, but it becomes unhelpful when the head is held continuously in the tear soaked hands. It is when the brow is lifted and the gaze settles on the One who saves that hope, true hope, flows back into the heart and the strength to carry on is rekindled. Even as I write this, my heart is beginning to feel a little lighter. 

But part of me still wants to reject this lightness of heart being offered to me in favour for despair. Maybe it is because I don't believe that God will save me from this and grant me the hopes and dreams I sorely long for. Yet this I call to mind, God is always true to His word and He has plans not to harm me but to give me life. It is highly likely that this will not happen in the way I think is best but that is a good thing because I am inherently flawed. Maybe the reason I choose despair is because I feel that if I stay in my fish bowl, I have the right to be angry with God, maybe I will feel better if I have someone to blame. I have been caught in that snare many a time before. The truth is that this path leads to self destruction. It is ok to tell God that you are angry and upset, but it is not ok to blame God for the current misfortune. It is not His fault and He is a loving father who grieves with you and is even more angry about the injustice than I could every be.

I don't know. These are just the ramblings of a little girl who wants simple answers to complicated questions from her Father. I know I won't get all these answers in this lifetime, but this I know. I do not have to settle for a life in the fish bowl. Life only has purpose and meaning when I am doing life with God.. I am in there for a season and the season will pass. But while I'm there, there are whole new journeys to be made and experiences to be discovered. My mediocre fish bowl may have just turned tropical.

Chapter Two

So my two week holiday on the outside has come to an end and I'm back in hospital now for round two. I have had a very restful and enjoyable time off, although bitter sweet at times as I mentioned in my last post. I got some fantastic news on Friday; I was told that I am in remission! This means that the chemotherapy has worked and and the bulk of the cancer has gone. The plan now is to continue with one or two more cycles (after this one) of chemotherapy treatment followed by a bone marrow transplant. The challenge now is to find a suitable donor for the transplant; this is done by searching the bone marrow transplant register. To find out more about bone marrow transplants and joining the register, take a look at the Anthony Nolan website http://www.anthonynolan.org/

Chemotherapy, this time round shouldn't be as physically harrowing as it was the first time because they should have found a combination of drugs that work best for me. I am likely to be in for the same amount of time as last time, roughly five weeks. I have started the chemotherapy regime today and will be finished it by Sunday this week. The rest of the four weeks will be spent recovering and waiting for my counts in my blood to recover. I know what's coming and how it is likely to play out which is reassuring but I think the main challenge for me will be emotionally. It was really hard coming back in today because I had just got accustomed to being free again. But, it is what it is and I just have to trust that God will sustain me one day at a time; He has always been true to His word and will continue to do so.

Time will tell what's in store over the next few weeks, but one thing's for sure, regardless of the storm ahead and the pain I endure, it will be used for good. Stay tuned.

When Sadness Dawns

I am half way through my two week holiday from hospital. I have spent my time sleeping, eating, playing with  the cats, reminiscing with old friends and catching up with my church family. The week ahead has in store much of the same, but it will end with a highly anticipated and long awaited visit from my brother, my sister-in-law and my beautiful baby niece. I am so grateful for my time out of hospital; but I find I am left with a bitter sweet taste in my mouth.

It has been wonderful being on the outside, but no matter how hard I try, the trauma of cancer and the beginning of the next cycle of treatment looms over me. It is like trying to escape from your own shadow. When I wake up in the morning, the ten boxes of pills tauntingly await me. I look into the mirror as I check the tube coming out of my chest to make sure the surrounding tissue is not infected; the fear of infection is never too far from my thoughts. I walk to the end of the road and I'm out of breath; I can't do what I want to do. I talk to friends, and while I am really glad to see them and find out how they are doing, I feel left behind as it seems that their lives move forward and, at best, my life stands still. I then realise that I am jealous of their lives, as I see the things they have that I want, and then hate myself for not being content. Every so often, out of the blue, sadness dawns and I don't know why.

When sadness dawns, everything seems irrelevant and pointless. I try to remind myself of the goodness that God has done in my life and how He is using this for His work, but it seems so shallow and fake. Maybe I use God's work as a crutch, a way to avoid facing the truth and allowing myself to grieve. Distraction has always been my number one tool for avoiding grief. The distraction would normally take the form of something church related so that I could justify the distraction because I was doing work for God. I am even doing it now through this blog. Well, maybe I am and maybe I'm not. This blog does give me the opportunity to talk about God but at the same time it forces me to pin down my thoughts and feelings coherently. If I didn't write things down I would be left with an aura of feelings which I wouldn't quite know what to do with.

So what do you do when sadness dawns? I'm reticent to say this, but I think the answer is grieve. Grieving is different from wallowing in self pity or entering into a hopeless spiral of depression. Grieving is allowing yourself to hurt and allowing yourself to be healed. Grieving gives you an opportunity to turn to God for healing. It may take some time and you may have to go through the process several times for the same issue, but those who hope in the Lord will never be put to shame. But this is all easier said than done. However, the beauty of putting my trust in the Lord is that I know that He is in control of my grief and my healing. I don't have to force myself to grieve in order to be healed. God knows when and how I will grieve and He will be there every step of the way. 

As I come to the end of this post, I am reminded of a particular chapter in The Chronicles of Narnia: The Magician's Nephew. The boy, who's name currently escapes me, is looking down at Aslan the Lion's great paws with tears in his eyes over his dying mother. Eventually, the boy gets the courage to look up into the eyes of Aslan. He sees tears in the Great Lions' eyes and knows in an instant that this Great Lion is more upset for the pain of his mother than He could ever be or imagine. My God feels my pain and grieves for me more than I can ever imagine or comprehend. Nothing or no one could ever compete with such love and compassion that He has for me. It is with this knowledge that my grieving and subsequent healing will begin.

What Are You Waiting For?

What am I waiting for? Lots of things. For example, I am currently waiting for Button The Cat to vacate my room, more specifically, my bed - "Why don't you just through her out?" I hear you ask in an exasperated voice. I tried that already. I'm not a complete ignoramus. That didn't work out so well for me so I shall wait patiently...then bribe her with some food later - tactics. But there are loads of things I'm waiting for. I'm waiting to go back into hospital and to get back out again. I'm waiting for the results of my bone marrow biopsy and a match for a bone marrow transplant. I'm waiting for the end of this treatment and to be given the all clear in three years time. I'm waiting for the next chapter of my life when I can put all this behind me. I'm waiting to work and earn my way. I'm waiting for love and for a family of my own. I'm waiting for answers and epiphanies. But above all else, I am waiting for the day when none of this matters any more; I'm waiting to die.

Curiously, it is the only item on my list, and I'm guessing yours too, that I can be sure will happen. It is a strange concept, waiting to die, because the idea of waiting for something suggest that there is a desire to acquire what has been patiently waited for. "Good things come to those who wait" they say. Ain't that sweet. Unfortunately, it's not particularly true or helpful. It is a carrot at the end of a stick to stop us making a fuss along the journey. Dying can be a good thing or a bad thing depending on your perspective and world view. But one thing is for sure, we are all waiting to die; the fact that death is inevitability, is irrelevant. 

I hate waiting. Mostly because it makes me wish my life away and stops me living my life now. But then, maybe it's not the waiting in itself that is causing this unsettledness. Maybe it is my need for control and assurance. If I was completely guaranteed that my waiting list would be fulfilled the way I wanted it to be, then maybe I wouldn't be so bothered. Waiting to die does not make me unsettled because I know there is something better after it and because I know it is definitely going to happen. 

So why wait? Waiting forces you to relinquish control because there is no other option. But, more importantly, when waiting is forced upon you it may be a gift of wisdom in disguise. For example, if your three year old son asks you if he can play with your chain saw to help you cut down trees, you would tell him to wait until he was older. It may be that many of the things I am waiting for would do me a disservice if I had them now. But on the other hand, maybe I am made to wait for a completely different and unknown reason. 

So here's the question. Is waiting good or bad? Yes. It is both because it depends on why and what you are waiting for. Some people are professional procrastinators and just need a good kick while others need to pause and consider before acting. The key is to know which is which. I guess the answer can't really be illustrated in a flow diagram, but can be learnt through listening, trial and error, and guidance from people who give wise counsel. Up to this point in my life I have always jumped in cannon ball first without a second thought and reaped the consequences. It is only now (slow learner you see) that I am starting to learn to wait. 

Ask Away Answers

This part of the blog is dedicated to answering the questions you have. Post your questions in the comment box on this page or any Ask Away pages and I will answer them.

Answers For Becki

1. What form of cancer do you have?

I have Chemotherapy Induced Acute Myeloid Leukaemia. So basically, I have leukaemia that has been caused by the chemotherapy I had three years ago to treat Hodgkin Lymphoma. 

2. What can I do to help?

There is always a need for support for cancer. Being on the bone marrow register is a fantastic thing to do because it helps people like me who are waiting to find a match for a bone marrow transplant. Unfortunately, bone marrow matching is not dependant on blood type or as straight forward, but the advantage of going on the list is that it is bound to be of help to someone somewhere. Also, if you can, please give blood. I am B+ but there is always a shortage. If you would like to raise money, the Teenage Cancer Trust would be the organisation to do it for, here is the link http://www.teenagecancertrust.org/

3. Can I send post?

The best place to send post to me would be directly at the hospital because I am there most of the time. The address is:

Stari Gunarathne

Ward 94

Bexley Wing

St James Hospital

Leeds

LS9 7TF

ps re cupcake flavour, surprise me!

Answers for Steph

1. Are you going through hair loss?

Yes and no. So I started to lose my hair at the start of the first cycle of chemotherapy, but once the chemotherapy eventually leaves your system after a few weeks, I stopped losing my hair and it started to grow back again. So if you saw me now, you wouldn't be able to tell that I have lost any hair. But eventually, I will most probably lose all of it, but it doesn't bother me too much. Irritatingly, you don't tend to lose body hair, just the hair on your head, so you end up looking like a bald yeti!

Answers for Liz

1. When does the next round of chemotherapy start?

It is most likely to start on Monday 11th March. It will hopefully not be nearly as bad as last time because they have reduced some of the chemotherapy doses and have found out what anti sickness medication works for me. I will probably have to play it by ear in terms of people visiting in the first week, but I shall let you know.

That's all folks! Keep the questions coming!

Ask Away

One of the things that breaks my heart about cancer is the fear it strikes into the people around the person going through it. I find that people are too scared to ask me deep questions for fear of upsetting me or fear of the answer. When I say people, I mostly mean adults. Kids, on the other hand, are a completely different ball game. Before the start of the treatment, I was at my friends house and she has three children. My friend had told her kids that I had cancer and what that would mean. When I walked into their house, I was greeted by the youngest, who is four years old, with "Stari, are you going to die?" No hesitation, no embarrassment, no build up to the question, just straight out with it. The question did take me by surprise, mainly because I was expecting a "hello" first, but I answered it as best I could in a way that she would be able to understand. It was refreshing to be asked a direct question with no awkwardness.

I was thinking about this last night and I decided that people have questions and those questions need to be answered. It is important that these questions are answered not only for your sanity but it will help to prepare you to walk alongside other people with cancer. So here's the idea. Ask Away. If you have a question, write it in the comments box on this page, or any future Ask Away pages, and I will answer it. You can leave your name if you like but don't feel you have to. You can ask about anything. You can ask about the medical questions e.g. treatment, symptoms, prognosis, patient experience, physical and emotional health, faith, life, my past experiences, or it could be something completely random. The point is, you have the freedom to ask anything if you wish.

I shall look forward to hearing from you!

   

The End Of Chapter One

The end of this chapter has come abruptly but has been a good surprise. I am allowed to go home today for roughly two weeks. My immune system is very low so I still have to be careful but at least I can recuperate in a much nicer environment. But there is one final hurdle I have to jump before being allowed to escape today - a bone marrow biopsy. I have had one before and it was agony so I am mentally preparing myself for the inevitable. The results from this bone marrow biopsy will show how well the chemotherapy has worked against the cancer. Those results will help the doctors know if they need to adjust the treatment before the start of my next round of chemotherapy which will begin in roughly two weeks time.

It is exactly five weeks today since I started my treatment. What a whirlwind! It has been incredibly painful, physically and emotionally, at times; but God's grace and loving faithfulness has been present the whole way through. I know many of you have been praying for me and I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart for the love, support and encouragement you have given me. It has greatly helped to carry me through this first stage of the journey. You have been the Body of Christ to me and I pray that God will grant you every blessing and continue to strengthen your faith.

So this is me signing out for a week but tune in next time for the start of Chapter Two.

Failure

Failure. Even the word conjures up bad feelings. I have often felt in the past that my life has been marked by failure. In primary school, I failed to be accepted and was bullied. I failed the entrance exam for the secondary school I wanted to go to. I walked out of mock exams because I had a panic attack. I failed to control my emotions and was depressed. I failed to get the grades for medical school straight after school. I didn't complete my degree in St Andrews. When I did get to medical school, I failed my exams. I have had eight years of university education and nothing really to show for it; and now, yet again, my body has failed to maintain its health.

I think that the worst part of failure is knowing that you're not good enough. When I have failed at things in the past, it was always accompanied by a sense of shame and embarrassment."What will people think?" would feature in my thoughts. I started to fear failure, especially in academia, and as a result my anxiety increased to a level that was unmanageable. It would also stop me from doing things in case I failed at them. 

But that was then. My perspective on failure has completely changed.  There are lots of things that I have succeeded at, but that is not the point. The success that I have had does not make me feel better about the times I failed; one does not cancel out the other. What has changed my perspective is looking back and seeing how, through failure, my character has been built. There are two ways to respond to failure - stay on the ground or get up and run. The greatest lesson I have learned from these experiences is perseverance. It is still feels rubbish when failure comes but having the resilience to bounce back trumps that feeling because I know that it is only temporary. I am a strong person now, not because of failure itself, but because of what God has taught me through those experiences. Whatever happens I know I will not be given more than I can cope with. This gives me freedom to attempt new and challenging things with the crushing fear of failure.

I may not be good enough at lots of things in this life but that doesn't really matter anymore. Through my own strength, even though I tried as hard as I could, I could never meet the requirements to have a relationship with God. It was only through believing in Jesus that the infinitely large chasm could be crossed. Now I know that because I have faith in Jesus, I will always be good enough for God because when He looks at me He sees me covered with the perfection of Jesus. So even though, by human standards, I may continue to fail and not be good enough, I will always be good enough for God.  

Cupboard Update

So, I should probably update you on what has been going on over the last few days. I am no longer hiding in the glorified arts cupboard; I was moved back into a side room on Friday morning. I can't tell you how relieved I was and am for having my own room and being able to sleep. I feel so much better in myself now. 

In other exciting news, I think I'm ready to go home for a week either today or tomorrow. So, technically, the doctor hasn't actually said that I can go home because I haven't seen him today yet, but I saw my blood results and I'm pretty sure that the end of Chapter 1 is imminent. I shall keep you posted! 

The Straw That Broke The Camels' Back

I have been in here for 31 days now and I have finally cracked. In my defence, however, I think I have lasted a substantial amount of time before this meltdown. So what is the nature of this straw? A promise broken. In their defence, it is a relatively small promise, but it was enough to awake the monster. I was moved from the side room into a bay 6 days ago. Which is fine because someone more ill than me needed the side room. However, there are disadvantages to being in a bay with other people, firstly there is no privacy - pulling a curtain round your bed does not make it sound proof, nor does it stop people coming in when you are trying to get changed. Secondly, you are always with people, there is no time where you can be on your own in silence; I like people but even I need some time on my own. Thirdly, most importantly, you are continuously woken up through the night with other people's machines going off and the nurses coming in and out. To add salt to the wound, it isn't even possible to sleep during the day because people are constantly coming and going. I have been sleep deprived for 6 days and counting. I can cope with most difficulties, but sleep deprivation is my Achilles Heel.  As an aside, in some countries it is actually a form of torture to wake people up just as they are about to fall asleep. But there was a light at the end of the tunnel which was holding my will to live by a thread. The staff promised me that today, although I would still be in a bay, they would move me into the corner where there would be a tiny bit more privacy. Did they deliver? No. They moved someone else into that area instead. When I asked them why they had done this, instead of owning up and apologising they shifted the blame. The result, adding fuel to the fire.

I am now venting in a glorified version of a store cupboard because it is the only place where I can find some quietness and privacy. I have kind of half decided that I am no longer going to be a compliant patient; I am even toying with the idea of self discharge. Why should I get up and go to bed when I'm told to, take the tablets when I'm told to, stay on this ward and not wander off. I know what your thinking, it's for my own good and they are only trying to help and keep me safe. But here's the thing, everything is so controlled that I want to push back. At least in prison, they get to go outside for exercise and are not being pumped full of poison; I bet the food's better too. What the staff don't appreciate is that for now and the foreseeable future this hospital, this ward, is my home where I am trying to live my life. Nobody would dare to walk into a persons house and act in this way.

This is normally the point in my blog where I flip the issue round and talk about what I think God would say on the matter. But, at this current moment in time, I've got nothing; but maybe something will emerge. The reason why, in my blogs, I always turn the issue over to God is to stop myself wallowing and going round in a vicious circle of despair. It is when you look to God that you find hope and your burden is lifted. So even though, the last thing I want to do right now is take this to God because I rather stay angry, I am going to try because I know it is the right thing to do and I will feel much better for it. So here goes.

I guess the first thing I need to tell myself is that it is not wrong to be angry and upset. It is ok to grieve. I know that when Jesus was on this earth He got angry and He was upset. I know that the pain that I am feeling now He feels too because He is with me. But staying angry and upset is not good because it leads to bitterness, resentment and the desire for revenge which is all consuming and destructive. I have to forgive the staff, as many times as necessary, for being inconsiderate. God has forgiven me for much much worse so I have no excuse not to forgive others even if they don't apologise or don't change. Forgiving people is hard and sometimes I find I need to forgive the same person for a particular issue in the past several times before the forgiveness has fully settled in my heart. It is a discipline, but it is one worth persevering with because the alternative is destructive. Once we forgive, we can receive healing from God for our wounds.

So the prediction of feeling better once I focused on God has come true. For those of you who are slightly concerned that I am going to stage The Great Escape, for now at least, I shall put my blueprints away. As always, God has the final word. True rest comes from Him, so I will trust Him to give me rest. I am much calmer than I was at the start of this blog but woe betide anyone who dares to wake me in my cupboard!

Are You Sure?

I've been a Christian for a little while now and over the years God has strengthened my faith. But that doesn't mean that I don't doubt, I am still only human. The question that comes back to me from time to time, especially when things are hard, is "Is what I believe is actually real? Can I be sure?" I can't see God with my eyes, I can't touch God, so what proof do I have that He exists? Sometimes I wonder if the way I have chosen to live my life has been for nothing. Have I been brainwashed? Maybe the atheists have it right, or what if a different religion is the one.

But despite these doubts that arise, my faith is not shaken because it is through God's strength, not my own, that I have faith. Faith is not blindly believing in something without questioning and it is not dependent on how you feel at a particular point in time. Faith is believing what was said to be true even though it can't be seen.  I used to think that seeing was believing until I came across optical illusions. That was when I realised that I can't wholeheartedly trust, in the absence of other evidence, what my eyes tell me. But there are some things that we believe in that we can't see. Take the wind for example; we can't see it but we know it is real because we can feel it's effects.  Likewise, I can't see God but I can feel His effects. 

I work out my faith in two ways, with my head and with my heart. When doubts arise, my starting point when investigating the validity of these doubts is to ask the question "Is the bible reliable and true?" I am no biblical scholar, but the evidence that I have heard for and against has convinced me that the bible is historical, reliable and true. Once I have established the trustworthiness of the bible, that pretty much takes care of most of the doubts that I had.  But if I left it at that, it would be useless.  I would just be an academic and miss out on the transforming power of what God says in the bible. I have to believe the bible to be true in my heart. This comes over time. When I look back on my life, I can clearly see God's hand in it and I can see where the promises He has made in the bible have come true. This is what truly builds up my faith and squashes my doubts.

However, there is one further objection that rears its head.  What about the parts in the bible I disagree with. I have since learned, the hard way, that when I disagree with what God says in the bible, it is either because I don't understand what it being said or because I don't like. Generally, when I don't like what is being said, it is because I am doing the opposite when I know I shouldn't be. Just because I don't like or understand something doesn't make it untrue. There are some things in the bible that I will never understand and people ask me how can I believe in God when I don't understand. Firstly, God is all knowing and limitless and I am just a mere limited human. It would be equivalent of a child refusing to trust a parent because they didn't understand the decisions the parent was making. Secondly, not even in science is it possible to understand everything yet we will still use it.

So that is basically my train of thought I go through periodically when I doubt. I don't tend to worry about having a crisis and losing my faith because God doesn't lose a person. Knowing this gives me the freedom to ask hard questions without the fear of rejection or falling away from God. Faith is a gift given from God. It cannot be taken and cannot be earned. But it comforts me to know that faith is a gift that is freely given when asked for. My life has completely changed now that God is in it. Travelling the road of faith is hard but I wouldn't change it for the world.