Why We Didn't Sue the Doctor, Part 2 of the Journey
Rooting out the Problems
Part 2
We chose to NOT take legal action against our physician. It took a great amount of time, thought, prayer, personal consideration, and input from trusted advisors. The first moment I wondered if I should, I prayed to ask God’s guidance. I asked him to guard me from rash decisions. I asked for protectection for every individual involved or touched by my choices. I wondered and prayed about my responsibility to others who faced similar struggles. My very short prayer, which covered all this and more, was simply the words "Help Me". I utttered those words of prayer in the middle of the night, in desperation and exhaution after I read and re-read material that deeply concerned me. Those words helped me lay down my burdens. I cried “Abba, Father” (just "help me) in my heart, curled up in his emotional arms and cried myself to sleep. We have come a long way since this thought first crossed my mind.
We worked through our personal decisions over the last weeks and now I seek to fulfill my personal obligation to my greater community of cancer patients. I come to you now, not only out of obligation, but with joy in my heart. My load is lightened, because we know that a legal battle with a person we care about (and know that person also cared about us in our time of need) is not helpful to my personal health or wellbeing. It also would not be a blessing to our family. Instead, it would tear at the fiber of our family and bring additional burdens upon this road worn family.
Now, I set out to bring positive changes for myself and others from the hard days we lived and worked through. I had some barriers to tear down before I began this conversation with you. Those barriers are temporarily dismantled. I will continue struggling against those barries as they pop up in daily life and in my fight against cancer. So, with the help of my family, I created some protections for this journaling and sharing process. One of those protections is my own arsenol of “bitterness detectors”. I have a few of them, but one in particular will help me dig out bitterness from this and future posts. She will also help me root out grammatical, logical, and just plain “squirrel chasing” problems. (If “squirrel chasing” is not “plainly spoken” in your personal or family vernacular, see other posts where the ADHD brain is also mentioned.)
I pray that this journey of blogging and sharing helps me work through and lay down these roots of bitterness that dig into my mind and heart. I look for a kind of healing here, one that comes through contemplation, thought, and time considering other perspectives than just my own. It takes a large amount of faith, maybe even a leap, to write and journal like this. Perhaps more faith than that of a mustard seed (Matt 17:20-21). Why, you might wonder, would it take faith? Because bitterness can grow into a mountain of pain that damages minds, hearts, families and friendships. This is a pain that I have known too well. I don't wish to re-aquaint myself with it.
Why am I concerned about bitterness? While I learn, and even sometimes labor, to grow better instead of bitter, I reach for understanding, compassion and a heart for other people, even ones who wound me along the way. I hope to live the kind of life that my Jesus did in Matthew 9. When he saw people, he had compassion. Maybe you haven't heard about this compassionate Jesus or God. Perhaps you have only heard about an angry God who wants to condemn people for "sin". I used to be “scared of” that God. I certainly did not like that side of him very much. I learned to fear God from angry sounding people. When that kind of fear ruled my vision of God, the compassion in me struggled.
Thankfully, in my early years, I first and most often heard about Jesus from my mother. She told me of a loving and kind God. She taught me about his love and care for me. Thankfully, my mother's soft and kind voice overshadowed those few screaming voices that caught my ear during my teenage years. And so, I am also thankful that today, my pastor today knows the loving, kind and gentle Father God that my mother and I know.
Those harsh words I heard long ago have been smoothed and eased by years of faithful teachings that seek to understand the hard things in the Bible. Pastor encourages us to not let the scary or hard things interfere with the good things we learn. So, I choose to know and try be like the Jesus I read about in Matthew 9. When I read, I see (I am quite imaginative, I see what I read) him heal a leper, the centurion, and Peter's mother-in-law. When I notice that he continues his healing ministry and heals far too many people to name ~ my heart leaps for joy!
This same Jesus and God of Matthew 9, who showed compassion and healed any number of people, has compassion on me, too. He knows I am weak and weary. He knows that my family is also weak and weary. I know he hears me, loves me, thinks of me, and makes plans for me (Jeremiah 29:11). Yet, even in this, things are complicated, because my God and I aren’t always on the same page.
I have his book, but I am “way behind on my personal reading list.” My heart is stubborn and plagued with the troubles around me in this world. I don't always understand what I read in the Bible. I'm no scholar! What I am is a girl who has been freed from the screams of a preacher who most likely loved Jesus, loved people, and was afraid for their souls. That poor man preached out of fear instead of out of love and faith. When I see the words, "Faith over Fear'', I think of this.
When I speak of anything--even more when I speak of God or Jesus--I want to speak softly and kindly. My mother models that for me. While I want to be compassionate like Jesus, I also want to learn to speak of him the way my mother spoke to me. There is some scary stuff in the Bible and it’s not all rated G, PG, or even PG13. That being said, while I don't seek to be a scholar, I have sought to understand this God.
I now find much more comfort in the Bible than fear. Not everyone grew up with a mom like mine, who shared Jesus as a comforter and friend--the best friend a girl could ever dream of. (Perhaps “best friend a girl could ever dream of”, was my own, now realized dream). When I speak to someone, I want them to hear the same love I heard and not worry about figuring out the upsetting stuff until (and if) they are ready. While it is still complicated, it’s okay, because “my God still loves me anyway.”*
Now this blog spot is a place for me to decompress and share my trials, thoughts, and eventual gleanings (insight?). I didn't really intend it as a religious spot. It seems that every time I write these days, Bible verses, song lyrics, and little teachings sneak out in my process of writing. Maybe what “they say'' is true. What we think about, concentrate on, and generally “lean into” becomes part of us and tends to leak out. If that's the case, Anne Shirley, Laura Ingalls Wilder and Jo March also crowd together in my brain and heart, waiting for their moment to pop out. Jim and Helen Herriot, Corrie Ten Boom with her precious father, along with many of Ms. Austen’s refined (and not so refined) crowd politely wait to share what they once offered me. Hopefully, I remember to give them (and their authors) credit. My Jesus is going to shine through this too, and since he's such a good friend to me, I will share those thoughts happily with you.
Thank you for reading, for listening, and for caring. I know you face your own trails and troubles, too. Cancer is just one of many life trials. There are enough traumas to go around this world over and over again. I know your pain and suffering hurts you too. I would guess that you have battled your own emotional battles. Whether or not you have struggled with bitterness as I have, you have worked to tear down your own barriers and conquer your own “mountains”. Thank you for joining me on my journey and listening to my tale. I pray that it gives you courage for your current or next fight.
Christine
~ ALK+ and thankful anyways 🕊
