Feeling the Isolation...Yet Not Defeated

It seems unfathomable that life can change so quickly, but I suppose I am living proof that it can happen. Looking back over the past 8 months and 7 days, I survived a swim through shark-infested waters and although the cancer shark is still circling, we are working through all of the decisions and emotions that come with a cancer diagnosis.

 

 

One of the hardest emotions to manage these days is the feeling of isolation.  Before cancer, we had such a rich life of friends, dinners out, serving at our church, and Sam's greatest love, his Rotary club.  He was an assistant governor over the Rotary Clubs on the Sunshine Coast and his days were filled with looking forward to traveling to the club meetings, and taking on the duties of that position with such joy.  He loved going to Seattle to training meetings and seeing new members come into the club with the intent of showing them about Service Above Self.  Although I wasn't a Rotary club member, I loved every member of his club and going along with him when it was spouse night was a highlight of my week.  I thought about joining Rotary, but it was his activity -- I wanted him to feel he had something to do without me.  We did so much together, but Rotary was a high priority to him.

 

Since Sam has been sick, everything stopped.  As the months have progressed, I've continued working, but the isolation I feel is suffocating.  The days are full, but empty and lonely.  I miss seeing Sam's Rotary friends. I miss our dinners out on Friday nights.  I'm unable to go to church because I don't want to leave Sam alone for so long.  I feel I need spiritual food and I feel totally dry most days.  Decorating our home and just making it a soft place to land has taken a backseat to organizing medicines, meeting with nurses and worry has begun to take over too much of my brain space.  I have too much to think about....and yet nothing meaningful to think about.  My friend suggested I am approaching burnout, but I can't afford to take a day off and I need to be on track each day to make life work.  I do guide this cancer ship,  and yet most days I feel unworthy and wish I could hand that job over.  Eight months and one week of making heavy decisions weighs on a person.

 

I want to live my life with holy joy -- the kind of joy that isn't dependant on circumstances.  The kind of supernatural peace and love that God pours out when I ask....and sometimes when I don't and yet he freely pours it out, knowing I am in need.  The one thing I am sure of is my feelings are unreliable.  How we feel isn't reality.  We may not feel loved or appreciated or worthy.....but those are just feelings.  In reality, I am a child of a God who loves me and knows my situation.  He provides for our family and gives us strength.  My feelings are irrelevant.  It's what I know to be true that counts, and I know my faith is real and it is sustaining us during this stormy time.  I may feel isolated and alone but I am not.  God goes before me each day and plans the path for us.  Nothing happens that He isn't aware of in advance. 

 

Life is ever changing -- even in times of good health, we need to be resilient and pliable and to seek to be used to help others.  Tonight I pray for holy joy to return to me, to be appreciative of this journey Sam and I are taking together -- although it feels isolating, we share a deep experience that no one else can know.  We are grateful we can walk this road together.

 

One night many years ago when Sam and I first began going to a home group in our church, the question of the night was:  what is your favourite Christian song.  I'll never forget Sam's answer:

 

O Lord my God, when I in awesome wonder
Consider all the worlds thy hands have made,
I see the stars, I hear the rolling thunder,
Thy power throughout the universe displayed:

 

Then sings my soul, my Savior God, to thee:
How great thou art! How great thou art!
Then sings my soul, my Savior God, to thee:
How great thou art! How great thou art!

 

We always used to tease our friends Trish and Ken to come stay at chez Simpson any time.  We didn't say it to be pretentious but just in complete fun and with sincerity that our home is always open to our friends.  So tonight from chez Simpson, Sam and I wish you a beautiful rest of the week.  We pray blessings on all of our friends and family who show endless support for us.  We love you all so much.