Something Better...

My biggest fear in life was to die of cancer. When at age 29 I found a lump in my right breast, I hoped it was nothing. Everyone kept trying to encourage me that it was nothing. Young women aren’t supposed to get breast cancer, are they? But the lump got bigger, and all the tests and biopsies showed advanced-stage cancer. So shortly after my thirtieth birthday I was in the hospital for major surgery. I spent the next year going through chemotherapy, radiation, and even more surgery.

Cancer was no stranger to me. My mother died of cancer when I was 19. During her illness and after her death, I spent a lot of my time and energy being angry with God. I thought that if God really cared about me and loved me as much as I had been taught from a young age, then he wouldn’t take my mom away from me. He knew how much I was going to need her over the years, and at times I even felt like God was mocking me, as if to say “You can’t have it.”

Looking back, I now understand that losing my mother was not the worst thing that could happen to me. Honestly, being without her forced me to grow up, to think for myself, to discover what I really believe about things. I discovered that my childhood had prepared me for her death, and her death prepared me for what I would go through later in my life. I concluded that the God I had known since I was 10 is indeed a good God. Contrary to what my feelings sometimes tell me, he has filled my life with good things: a loving husband, a beautiful son, a career I love, and friends who stand with me even in the tough times.

As I was going through cancer treatments, I discovered a verse in one of the Psalms that whispered, “Be at rest, Amy, for God has been good to you.” Trusting that he had something even better planned for my life, I felt at ease even when I wasn’t sure I’d ever be well again. I came to realize that when my mother was sick I was asking the wrong question. Then I kept questioning, “Why is this happening to me?” Now I have learned to look past the why and ask, “What better thing waits for me?”

So far life hasn’t turned out like I imagined it would. According to my plans, I would have had more children. Because of my illness, I have an only child, and I treasure him more than a dozen children. If I’d had things my way, I would have had my own mother just a phone call away to share all of life’s “Kodak moments.” Instead, I have several “moms” who care for me and share special times with my family. In spite of all the hard times (or maybe because of them) life is turning out better than I could ever have planned it myself.

I’m so thankful that I am again in good health and can enjoy living life with Sean and watching Ben grow up. At the same time, I know that can change at any moment. If it does, I won’t be afraid. I’m certain, without any doubt, that something even better is in store for me.

(Note: Several weeks ago I had to write my own story as part of an assignment for the small group I'm part of. This piece is the result of that exercise. After receiving feedback from my group, I thought I'd post it here for any further comments or suggestions.)

Providential Reading

As I mentioned in a previous post, for every three new books that I read, I try to read one classic (i.e., “old book”). I don’t hold to this as a fast rule, just a general guideline. But seeing as it had been some time since I’d read one of the classics of English literature (and I had definitely read more than three newbies), I decided to select something from my “books I wish I’d read in college but never had the time” shelf. My choice: Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte.

The copy of Jane Eyre that I own is over fifty years old. There’s nothing special about the edition itself, but it belonged to my mom, a gift on her 23rd birthday from her closest college friend. That makes it special to me. The end paper bears the inscription: “Happy Birthday, Julie! From Lannie, May 1, 1953.” I’m not sure whether Mom ever read the book. Lannie married my dad after mom died, and I know that it was her favorite story. I cherish it in memory of both of them.

With so many novels of the Victorian period, I feel like my eyes get bogged down in words. While Charlotte Bronte spends a lot of words describing things for the reader, not one of them is wasted. She paints with words the way her title character paints with watercolors. More than once her words conjured memories of the places I visited while in England, especially the downs at Dunstable. Friends took us there one evening to watch the sunset, and it’s a scene I’ll never forget.

The other thing I love about Jane Eyre is that Jane is the picture of contentment in the different seasons of life, something I desperately need to learn. So often I feel like I should be doing more, working more, writing more; and then I am reminded that this is a season of life that will all too soon be past. As Jane is teaching young girls in a small country school, a friend asks her, “What will you do with your accomplishments? What, with the largest portion of your mind—sentiments—tastes?” I love Jane's reply:

“Save them till they are wanted. They will keep.”

I want to have that attitude. Sean and I have chosen to homeschool Ben. Preparing and teaching his lessons takes a huge chunk of my life right now. Some days I think of how I could be writing or working or doing any number of things to further my career or for my own enjoyment. Now when I feel that rising discontent I can remind myself that these things will keep until Ben is grown and I enter a new season of life.

As I turned the last page, I asked myself one question: Why have I never read this book before? Perhaps a book patiently waits for when the reader is ready to digest what it has to teach. I know that if I had read Jane Eyre at any other time of my life, it would not have made such an impact. It still would have been a great classic of English literature, but it would not have packed the moral punch in my life. More than ever I’m convinced that God’s hand of providence guides my life, right down to the details of what I read and when.

Amazing Grace

When I visited England in the summer of 1996, I had the privilege of visiting the Parish Church of Sts. Peter and Paul in Olney, Buckinghamshire. This is the first church that John Newton served as pastor. He spent seventeen years at Olney, during which time he wrote a collection of hymns, the most famous of which is “Amazing Grace.” One of my favorite England memories is standing at the communion rail of the Olney church and singing “Amazing Grace” in four-part harmony with my friends.

Several years ago I read Out of the Depths, a biography of John Newton that includes a reprint of his own Authentic Narrative. Having grown up hearing the story of the slave trader turned preacher, I’m thankful I took the time to read it for myself, especially Newton’s own words.

Earlier this year Sean surprised me with a new biography of Newton written by Jonathan Aitken. John Newton: From Disgrace to Amazing Grace (Crossway, 2007) is the most detailed account of Newton’s life that you’ll ever read. Drawing from Newton’s published writings as well as his unpublished journals and papers, Aitken traces one soul’s attempt to flee a God who was hot on his heels.

Newton, by his own admission, was a most despicable character in the beginning. And even after he cried out to God for mercy in the middle of a north Atlantic gale, it was a long journey from the decks of a slave ship to the pulpit of a church and the halls of British Parliament. There he gave a detailed account of his experience in the slave trade. His graphic testimony of the horrors he witnessed and took part in aided his friend William Wilberforce in abolishing the British slave trade.

Aitken gives an accurate and moving account of Newton’s struggle toward conversion and his passionate life of faith thereafter. He writes with genuine understanding, offering a real look at one of God’s works in progress. I look forward to one day meeting the finished product when my own course is run. When that day comes, I hope my attitude will echo Newton’s dying words: “My memory is nearly gone, but I remember two things: That I am a great sinner and that Christ is a great Savior.” Perhaps what made this biography so special for me was that visit to Olney all those years ago. I commented to Sean that I wish I’d done more reading about Newton before I went there…I just had no idea. No matter. One day I hope to go back to Olney with my family and enjoy the peace of that place. When I do I’ll pay another visit to the monument that marks John & Mary Newton’s final resting place. There I’ll offer thanksgiving to God for the grace he has shown in their lives and in mine.