First ramble: Also known as "Am I angry with God".

Just to be clear. I don't ever intend for my rambles to have a title, or a clear theme. They just work out that way. This is actually based on a question/discussion from three different people. Since I am unable to think of quick responses on my toes, I tried to organize my thoughts more clearly when I got home.

In other words, don't expect that all of my ramblings will have a question behind them. This is just the question that was posed to me.

And now, on with the ramble.

Am I angry with God?

I have cancer.
I’m 27 years old and I have cancer.
I have Hodgkin’s lymphoma.
I have Hodgkin’s disease.
I’m 27 years old and next Wednesday I am going to meet my oncologist.
I am going to have an oncologist.
Chemo therapy is no longer an abstract.
Radiation therapy is no longer something that other people go through.
I have cancer.

Am I angry with God?

I don’t get angry. I never really have. It’s too strong an emotion for me. I get pissy, irritable, ornery and even bitchy. But I don’t get angry.

So, Am I angry with God?

I came awful close. I got really pissy, very irritable, ornery and so very, very bitchy.

But here’s my hang up. I don’t know the plan. I know there is a plan. I have always had complete faith that there is a plan. I have to have faith. But I NEED to have faith that there is a plan. I am not equipped to think of life as random. I refuse to believe that life is random. There is a plan. Doesn’t mean I have to like or understand the plan. I just need to accept that there is one.

And now we flash back to High School math. Specifically –Proofs. If A then B.

If there is a plan than there is a purpose. I don’t know what the purpose is. I just know that there is a purpose. In fact, most people do believe in the plan and the purpose. You know because you will hear the question, “Why me, God?” Sure it is usually a rhetorical cried out in angry bitter pain. But it still shows that they believe in the plan and thus in the purpose.

I was expecting the angry, bitter, rhetorical question to come from my lips as well, and in a way, it did. But it surprised the hell out of me when I realized that it wasn’t angry, bitter or rhetorical. I was actually speculating on an answer. And interestingly enough. I think I found one.

Am I angry with God?

How arrogant would it be to ask “why me, God?” for this one small, negative portion of my life and never ask “Why me, God?” for the rest of it. Why me, God? Why did you give me this huge, noisy, overly involved, sometimes smothering family? Why did you give me siblings who understand me so well, that I barely need to speak for them to know what I am feeling? Why did you give me parents that are so involved and loving that they can anticipate when I am about to fall, (which let me tell you - happens often,) and be there to catch me? Why did you make it impossible for me to not let people in - To adopt cousins and friends into my close knit group of sisters and brothers? Why did you give me a church family that is so close as to give me an entire surrogate family when I need to be away from my own?

Why did you give the firmest, most sound, support system as a foundation for my entire existence? Maybe this is why.

Am I angry with God?

Let’s just take a hypothetical. Let’s just suppose for one second, that it wasn’t all about me. I know... it’s a stretch. But let’s try. I meet my doctor, I go through treatment. I cry. I yell. I don’t sleep fearing about the next day. I am horrible to my family. They yell, they cry, and they lose sleep but in the end, they are my family and they tell me they love me, that I’ll be ok and to suck it up and deal. I do. Now, onto the part that isn’t about me. In five, ten, fifteen years I meet someone, a stranger, a friend, a family member. And now they have cancer. And maybe their supports aren’t like my supports. Maybe their foundation was never strong, or maybe life has demolished some of it. Their shaky at best, they don’t have my siblings, there is no parent there to catch them and no church to run to when it all becomes too much. Now maybe, everything that I am going to go through isn’t really about me, but about this person. This person that I have yet to meet. Maybe it had nothing to do with me at all, except to prepare me to help this other person. Maybe it’s all about them. In which case my question is answered. “Why me, God?” Because it’s not all about me.

Am I angry with God?

So on to my final hypothetical.
I can come up with, off the top of my head, 8 reasons that show that God is not a missing entity in my life. They span in ages from 2 to 24. They are the second generation of cousins in my family. The children of my sister and my cousins. And while on the topic, I can come up with at least three handfuls of siblings and cousins that fall into my “life is a blessing from God” category. Now, this is unlikely, but once again, I'm not in on the Plan, but just suppose that there had to be a choice made. Suppose that one of us had to have cancer, right now. That if it wasn’t me it would have to be one of them. Well, then there is no contest in my eyes. It’s me. I would go through any amount of pain, discomfort, sleeplessness and worry over my own future in order to prevent my loved ones – my supports – from ever having to go through an ounce of pain. If my illness, if my cancer in some way prevents even the smallest amount of hurt to one of my sisters, cousins or – God forbid – to that second generation of cousins and nephews, then I submit willingly. Not happily or with grace, because – well – this is still me. I whine. But with a whole heart to prevent this from happening to them. Or even if this does happen if my experience prepares me to catch this stupid, horrible, miserable disease early on, before it can harm one of my loved ones, than so be it. I will gladly go first and even more gladly be the only one to go through it, for them.

So, once again - Am I angry with God?
No.
With all that he has given me, I wouldn’t know how to be.