Yes, the fatigue made it difficult to write, but that's not the real reason why I took a hiatus from blogging.  The past few months I've felt really messy internally, and I'm better at reflecting on things after the fact rather than trying to express the inexpressible while I'm in the middle of it.  Perhaps the words from the Kate Bush song can express the past few months better than I can:


This past year and a half, I've paused a few times to marvel at the wonder of the human condition.  The joy and the pain, the emotional intensity of the ups and downs of life, the longing and desire for that which we can never fully attain in this life.  It's beautiful and amazing and wonderful and frustrating, all at the same time.  I can see how it's all part of the design of a God who allows our hearts to be broken in the hope that we will bring them back to him for healing.  But still, when you're in the middle of a big ugly-looking knot, sometimes you forget that on the other side of the canvas is a beautiful tapestry, the tapestry that God is weaving out of your life.

It's been interesting and exciting to see how I've blossomed and come out of my shell since moving to Victoria seven years ago.  But this past year, I've felt myself drawing back into the shell.  Partly so that I could lick my wounds in the privacy of my shell.  Partly because it's not often that I get the chance to share what I'm going through with someone who's able or willing to see past their knowledge of reality to my current one.  I'm so grateful for those like everymystic who have been Jesus' hands and feet to me, for those like my cousin JW who encouraged me to keep having the courage to share what I'm going through, and for those like myshkin who have understood why I've struggled spiritually through this.  Because this past year and a half, while it brought signs of God's presence and grace in new and unexpected ways, also tested my faith in some areas.  It took me a long time to acknowledge that.  It wasn't until I went to church camp back in May that I was able to acknowledge that to myself as well as others.

So that's the real reason I haven't been blogging.  Because the first question I always ask myself when I start blogging is, "where is God in the midst of all this?"  And I didn't know the answer, or I wasn't ready for the answer until recently.  I admire "A"'s strength in staying with me through this time - I've been weepy and emotional and hypersensitive, well, ever since I've been diagnosed, but especially the past few weeks as things have been coming to a head.

I'm getting quite tired - writing this post has taken more out of me than I expected - but I'll end with a few quotes from my journal over the past few weeks:

'God, thank you that you are a God who embraces us in our hurts and wounds but who also invites us to move beyond our pain into your joy.'

'"A" and I were talking... it was the same conversation that I had with my small group and with myshkin: basically, does it matter whether God gives us trials and hardships or allows them to happen?  Usually I don't get caught up in small theological details because I'm aware that there's so much we don't know and won't know until we get to heaven.  But this detail matters a lot to me personally because it speaks to the character of God.  When people say "does it matter?", they're thinking of things like not having a job or being single, and I suppose in cases like that, it doesn't matter so much whether God caused it to happen or allowed it happen.  But when it comes to having breast cancer, it's very important to me to think of God allowing it to happen versus God causing it to happen.  I don't believe that God deliberately gave me breast cancer.  The more I talk about it and think about it, the more I'm convinced that it's not in his nature.  Yes, he allows trials to come to us, knowing that they will help build character and patience and a whole host of other godly qualities, but he's not malicious or mean.  I think of what Jesus said in Matthew 7:9-11 and Luke 11:11-13.  As he points out, no loving parent would deliberately put their child through a painful trial, but they might let their child go through something, knowing that it will teach them a valuable lesson.  And God, being our loving Father, is no different.'

'I keep going back to how lonely and in pain and abandoned I felt at times when I was on chemo, and wondering where God was at those moments, but I think what I need to remember is that while I didn't feel like God was there, the fact is that he was there and that he loves me and is on my side.  And the fact is that I have an amazing story - I can see the threads of God woven throughout the fabric of my life... The more I cry about those lonely moments when I was on chemo, the more they become not just tears of sadness, but tears of healing and tears of amazement at how much God loves me and how he's given me such an amazing story.'

P.S. Thanks so much to all of you who have been praying for me this past year and a half.  I know a lot of you worry about what I've been going through - I'm sure it must be very scary to hear about all the difficult emotions I've been experiencing - but don't worry, I can see the light at the end of the tunnel and I know that God loves me.  And as long as I keep focusing on that, I'll get through OK.

Edit October 5, 2009: The video I embedded is no longer available on Youtube, but thanks to everymystic who found the longer version of the video for me.