Sharp as a Bubble
Chemo does some funky things with your head. They call it “chemo brain.” I had my treatment yesterday and spent the rest of the day saying some pretty silly things. In all seriousness, I’d make a comment or think I was waxing eloquent only to have Jen and the girls burst into laughter. Soon, after thinking about how ridiculous or obvious or nonsensical my words were, I’d join in on the laughter. I’m glad I can still laugh at myself. We had some good guffaws.
In other thoughts, I was reading again this morning about the disciples crossing the Sea of Galilee and getting ambushed by a storm with attitude (Luke 8). What caught my eye this time was Jesus’ words at the beginning of the passage. “Let’s go over to the other side of the sea.”
You think Jesus knew what lay ahead? You think he was well aware of the impending storm brewing just over the horizon? Of course he was. And yet he still wanted them to cross the sea.
It reminded me that Jesus knows what lies ahead; he knows what troubles and trials are hiding just over the horizon, and yet sometimes he asks us to go through them anyway. But both times Jesus asked the disciples to cross the sea, knowing full well they’d get stuck in a storm and fear for their lives, he was there with them and calmed the sea. What comfort that brings.
I don’t know why, but for some reason Jesus has asked me and my family to cross this sea of cancer. He said, “Go to the other side,” knowing what the journey would hold. But praise God I have his promise that he’s there with us, weathering the storm by our side, protecting us from the raging winds, shielding us from the angry rain and waves. And when we need it most, calming us in the midst of the storm.