August 25, 2020
I thought I'd have answers today. Everything is still in disarray. No answers. More confusion. I couldn't read the doctor. He said he was perplexed. He didn't seem to believe the pathologist, he didn't order another biopsy, either. He said incurable. He said Stage 4. He didn't go into any detail on the bones. I don't know whether to have hope that I might have another decade, that I might at least go into remission. I don't know whether to prepare for imminent death. I know what I want: a second opinion from a pathologist- another pathololgist who says no stomach cancer- lymphoma instead- chemo and whatever else- more life. But God doesn't guarantee outcomes, only that He'll be with us. And why should I get to live? Joy didn't. Gary didn't The lady with the young daughter at Journey Church didn't. I know God doesn't base miracles or anything else on meritocracy. He decides because He is God. But why shouldn't I die? I'm going to- it's just a matter of when. Rich Mullin could've done so much more if he'd lived longer, so we humans think. But God allowed him to die "young". I don't feel like I can ask, much less claim, a miracle because I don't know if that what God wants to do. And if not, I have to trust He will take care of all that are left behind. Ironic that I've been suicidal and now don't want to die. Ironic that I was so close to death at Katie's birth and didn't feel all this angst. Maybe I was just too out of it. I've gotten to see Katie become an adult, maybe that's all the time I was allotted. Yet, I feel like I"m doing God a disservice by not having hope that I'll survive. I'm so mixed up and scared. And angry that I can't do anything in a pandemic to make up for dying early. This sucks.