Use the Rope

In my last two posts I made an analogy that having faith to fight cancer is like having faith to grow a garden. Maybe I was wrong...

The problem with the garden analogy is that I'm an amateur gardener! I have failed to grow peppers, planted peas too late in the season, forgotten to water cucumbers, let tomatoes over-ripen and all this with an overabundance of weeds. 

That's the problem with any skill - it takes a lot of time, effort, learning from the experts, and trial and error to get good at it. And while that's all fine and good for gardening, it's downright scary when it comes to deadly cancer. There isn't much wiggle room for trial and error; effort can easily be wasted in the wrong directions; and time feels like it's running out.

As for "experts" - there are way too many - from western medical doctors, to holistic doctors, to cancer patients who get excited about the latest remedy they're trying (myself included!). It's a dilemma: with all these "experts" and promises out there, how do you know who to trust? It's impossible to discover or to incorporate all the ideas at once (time, money, motivation, side-effects, etc). It's easy to feel lost and helpless in this fight... and I have. What's a girl to do?

While I like the analogy of faith being like a seed, this analogy is working a little better for me right now...

Recently I went to Trafalga with my kids and watched my 5-year-old daughter scamper up a rather high rock wall with joyful abandon; even jumping from one hand-hold to the next! This tiny little girl made it to the tippy-top multiple times; while kids twice her size chickened out about half-way up. 

I was so impressed with her I decided I had to try it myself. Before climbing, the teenage employee strapped me into a harness and attached it to a hydraulic-resistance safety rope. 

About 10 feet off the ground I began to marvel even more at my daughter's accomplishment. My fingers and toes already felt weak and there was absolutely no place to rest. I started to fear that I was going to slip and fall. I knew I was attached to a safety rope, but I panicked that either it might not work for me, or that slipping off, instead of letting go in a controlled way, would be way too scary. I wanted to give up right then. But then I thought of my daughter, leaping from hold to hold. And it suddenly occurred to me that she could do that because of the rope! She was so light that the hydraulics of the rope actually lifted her upward when she jumped. She could feel the rope and so she trusted the rope and used the rope to enable her climb. 

If I was going to make it, I knew I needed to trust the rope too. So I decided to test it a little and let go of the wall. I immediately felt the security of the rope; it's upward lift was much stronger than I'd realized from the ground. I realized that even though slipping might give me a momentary shock, I would be perfectly safe. I now trusted the rope. I grabbed the wall again and headed up. As I climbed I still felt afraid of slipping, especially on the trickier holds, but I pushed it aside and kept going, determined to reach the top. And I did!

My end goal - to be cancer free - appears dauntingly high. Who am I to think I can beat cancer when so many others don't? The farther I climb the more I feel both exhilarated and scared. Exhilarated by the view... of this amazing world of physical and emotional health and the beauty and strength of the human body and spirit. Scared by my own weakness and that I might slip up and make choices that are a waste of time and money; or worse, harmful. But any athlete can tell you that to be at your best, you can't be afraid. Fear will lock up your muscles and your mind. To perform you have to stay loose. You have to trust your rope. 

For me, that rope is Jesus Christ. I have come to realize that I don't have to be the poster-child of beating cancer; nor do I have to find the cure for everyone. I have talked to dozens of patients at CTCA and discovered that everyone's cancer story is as unique as they are. I have also been told a dozen stories of people who have been able to completely beat it. So I know it's possible and it's very individual. I have also come to believe that I have the best chance of success if I use my safety rope; if I just keep climbing (even joyfully!) and let Christ guide me to the experts and the remedies that are particularly right for me. I believe this is possible because I have felt awed by the serendipity of helpful events during other trials of my life. And even if I don't get to the top, if I don't completely eliminate cancer, I will climb my furthest if I keep trusting my Savior-rope.

I realize that being anchored to Christ is not tangible the way a rope is. But the fascinating reality is that both require belief!! Asking "Is Christ real?" is just like asking "Is my rope actually going to catch me if I fall?" That rope can be working perfectly, but if I don't believe that it is working then I might as well not even have it because I'm too scared to use it. My first attempt up the rock wall only got me 10 feet up, while my second attempt got me to the top. It was the same wall and the same rope. It wasn't until I chose to test it a little and then continually reminded myself to trust it as I climbed that I was successful. The belief is what matters.

During my cancer fight, I've done some similar testing. And I've come to know for certain that when I choose to disregard faith, my emotions are full of fear, depression and anger. When I choose to embrace faith, my emotions are full of empowerment, enjoyment, determination and gratitude. Is my trust in my Savior-rope something I can really rely on? I'd much rather make the climb believing that it is! Plus, the very fact that such a belief can have such a lifting effect, inclines me to believe that it is indeed real.

For anyone who read this far in my post - do you have a favorite faith analogy?


PS. My garden is thriving too!