A recurrent theme has been materializing in my life this summer: theft. While I’ve been fortunate enough to not have experienced any significant material theft short of a break-in at my old house that resulted some very frustrated young person who likely quickly learned that my jar of coins collected in my world travels wouldn’t work in a American Coke machine, several years ago. And, still, the theme of theft has manifested itself in a variety of faces.
In the 2003 book, the Kite Runner, about a young boy’s escape from war-torn Afghanistan the main character’s father, Baba, attempts to explain to his son the abhorrent side of humanity he’d come to see in that setting:
“There is only one sin, only one. And that is theft.
Every other sin is a variation of theft…When you kill a man, you steal a life,
when you tell a lie, you steal someone’s right to the truth.”
Cancer, itself, is by definition a thief; a tumor is little more than a group of rogue cells that tricks the body into thinking of it as healthy growing tissue that should be receiving the same nutrients as everything else (it’s a really fascinating process called angiogenesis (enjoy this great slideshow demo)
As such, how we eat can significantly affect a cancer’s ability to commit acts of thievery. Some foods feed the cancer. some foods fight if. What I realized this past month or so was that I’m getting pretty good at eating sensibly, cutting out bad things, but an pretty soft on eating aggressively, loading up on those thing s that would launch direct attacks on the thieving parties themselves.. This compromise essentially gives the cancer permission to steal all it can. As I only have so many meals in me, and only so much capacity to consume, it becomes important to not let poor food choices steal my eating time away. A bowl of cold cereal (with its artificial ingredients) would happily steal my breakfast appetite away from that healthy, cancer-fighting bowl of oatmeal with anti-oxidant rich berries.
At the onset of summer 2011, beginning in earnest as soon as my work abilities slowed down (May), it became apparent that another form of aggressive chemo treatment would be needed to rein things in, and that the side effects of which threatened to steal away yet another summer’s recreational capacities (as revoking of driving privileges due to seizures had done already done so). It sure looked like any
hope of life enjoyment for awhile was gone, so I looked ahead to the months on the calendar with an element of dismay. However, I am happy to report that beit by the hand of God, by help of good drugs, or by temporary bubble of good strength, I have
been able to maintain my physical and mental faculties (short of a steady fatigue),
in essence stealing back a thieved summer; Take that, chemo!
The 10th chapter of John in which Jesus describes thieves and robbers who comes to
steal and destroy, as opposed to the Good Shepherd who comes to give freedom
and therefore life as it was intended(“The thief comes only to steal and
kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full
(Jn:10:10”), has been on my radar a lot in mulling this notion of what these fleeting days of ours can look like, both if we face an uncertain timeline, or if we seek to avoid theft of this gift of a life we’ve been given.
In approaching these thoughts, it’s difficult to avoid the clichéd “Cancer gave me a whole new appreciation for life” line. Nearly impossible, because as others have assured me, there’s no escaping the newfound perspectives I’ve had thrust upon me these past three years, so why try? What occurs to me is that the greatest theft in life occurs when we settle for mediocrity in the face of the full, abundant life we could be living. Whether this takes the form of rejecting God outright, or of simply forsaking the joy of appreciating this very moment right now, our abundant life has been stolen, although that kind of theft is generally one where we’ve freely given up our joy and sought out the lie that the second-rate path is worth our time, energy, thoughts. Paul was aware of our limited multitasking abilities: whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything
is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things (Phil 4:7-9)
Some other area thieves towards which it seems we develop a Stockholm syndrome might be:
Guilt / Shame: “You know what you’ve been, done, you’ll never be more than that. Forgiveness only works so many times…”
Hurry: “If you don’t meet all these
expectations within this time frame, you are not valued”
Discontent: “You’re not quite happy, are you? I’ll
bet It that new car, bigger house, (*insert thing you lust after*) will give
you that extra boost you need to be happy in all other areas in besides that
lame stuff you have now is holding you back. You deserve more”.
There are too many other thieves for me to go into them all. My tendency to over
think things can become a thief of productivity, so we’re cutting it off short.
Health & life update: While my health hasn’t particularly changed since last update, I wanted to share a note word about the Daily Bread I’ve been enjoying this summer, As I may have mentioned the prospect of a car-less summer with limited physical mobility (or at least a degree of uncertainty about my limits) had me
predicting a soul-crushing several months of loneliness, boredom, and isolation, mostly spent writing, painting, and catching up on some DVD box sets. Instead, I’ve had more than a few stretches where I almost hoped for some for some of that boredom and isolation (that’s my introvert talking). It seems God talks to you all, and tells you when it’s time to converge on me, by way of random, out-of-the-blue calls, emails, texts, encouragements, and other such shows of love that we all need from time to time, yet often forget to perpetuate (AS I too often forget to do)
Another area of Bread provision has been with my housing as I man an ongoing quest for a new roommate, which would financially allow me to stay in a great place that is set up ideally for any rapid declines my health may take in the future (but, mostly, would keep me from having to pack everything up with one hand, then rely almost 100% on others for a cross-town move of some kind. Though this has been a yet-unsuccessful search, a very generous anonymous benefactor provided the funds a 2nd person would have provided: I cannot thank you enough for your generosity and thoughtfulness during a patience-testing ordeal.
Regardless of how that particular scenario is going to play out, it’s been a good summer, one which I was fully expecting to have been stolen away by this disease and its treatment.
Although I really want to stay in my amazing house that seems a perfect fit for potential disability needs in the future, It also occurred to me that most of the good
things in my life right now have come as consolation prizes to some other thing
where I didn’t get my first choice (jobs I didn’t get, leading to exciting moves that never panned out, relationships that never became what I thought they’d be, and yes, many times, an unforeseen change in housing arrangements). Even health factors in
there, as I hadn’t hoped for a brawl with an aggressive brain tumor, but can’t deny that God’s been busy in many lives in the midst of it)
