Chemo Thoughts on a Fine Spring Day

I've been run over by the chemo truck. My body aches. If I didn't know better, I would think I had run the Boston Marathon with those 26,800 crazies amazing athletes last Monday, rather than sitting in a reclining chair being infused with a chemo cocktail. Even my face muscles ache. My brain is content to just wander through this tired body, sometimes sleeping and sometimes staring blankly into space. I feel like a bystander in life; as if I could watch 24 hours of back-to-back Wheel of Fortune episodes without flinching.

My Bible reading this morning included 2 Peter 1:13, which reminds us that our bodies are just tents -- nothing more than temporary and utilitarian shelters compared to the coming glory. Thank God for that: my tent is saggy and battered. It's nice to know this isn't my permanent home.

On the other hand, it's a beautiful, sunny April day. Even a hurting body can't completely turn my focus from the amazing gift of life right here, right now, springing everywhere in glorious color and variety. Life is incredible. It's not just something to only look beyond for the glories to come. I look out our front window and see the remains of a tree cut down this winter: even this left-for-dead stump has sprouted a glorious spray of blossoms. It's a well-timed reminder to hold on; that we don't need to participate 100% in life to appreciate its beauty and tenacity; that we can praise God in all circumstances, including right now.