Doing time

     At some point, my life started feeling like an odd vacation… one where you don't have to work, but you also can't go anywhere cool.  I had a hard time adjusting to having so much alone time.  Long gone were the days of waking up at 6AM and returning home exhausted from working with hundreds of students.  What would you do with your days if you suddenly knew you'd be free for a minimum of 6 months?

     Keep in mind: I had to consider my physical and financial limitations.  Though I would've liked to, I couldn't use this time off of work to jet set around the globe.  So, I spent a lot of time thinking about our modern standard of American productivity.  Pondered what it meant to live purposefully as Christ-follower with cancer.  I wrestled with the idea of rest.  You might think, "Kelli, your body is internally at war.  You obviously need to rest."  This I know; yet, I found it hard to give myself permission to do so.  I felt guilty about resting for a while.  Then I sensed that God didn't need me to always be pursuing certain types of activity to earn His favor.  That's a message that comes from our culture.  There is a difference in resting and being lazy.  I am allowed to slow down and be grateful.  I found peace again in the stillness.

Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer. (Romans 12:12)

     You know how people in prison talk about "doing time?"  (I used to watch a lot of Lockup on MSNBC.)  I feel that this is a similar state of being.  I didn't commit a murder (that you know of- heh), but I have time to serve nonetheless.  And I want to "do time" well.  I believe that I will be healed.  I also believe that one day I'll look back on this perpetual period and it will seem very brief in the grand scheme of things.  Each day I feel less like a frustrated Bill Murray in Groundhog Day, and more like a person with an opportunity to learn and grow- a person who is more thankful, more generous, and more trusting of God with my future.

     Some days I see others' lives moving forward and feel like mine is pretty stagnant.  But I'm learning to think about it differently.  My friend Laura used the analogy of a slingshot while we were walking the other day.  I'm at the position where the band is stretched all the way back and holding.  The potential is there.  My life will burst forward once again in due time.  All I have to do right now is to focus on walking with the One who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine.  And when I look at it that way, I think I have a lot less on my plate than most of you.  Dare I say cancer has been a blessing?