Looking Ahead

I found out pretty early on that Mama was adventurous and a lot of fun.  She also knew how to make the best of a bad situation.  I’m pretty sure that she was almost always that way.  When Mama was twelve years old, she decided to teach herself how to drive.  She was at Nanny’s house.  Nanny was her grandmother and my great-grandmother.  Mama got in the car and took off.  Not too far into her maiden voyage, she ran into the mailbox and knocked the post out of the ground.  Nanny could have had a major fit and Mama could have been in big trouble.  Instead, Nanny just looked at the mess and said, “Run get our bait can – there are lots of worms in this hole and we’re going fishing!”  Nanny knew all about that business of making lemonade out of lemons.  Mama gave up on being a self taught driver.  She didn’t learn how to drive until my older brother was in the first grade.  There’s another story about that. 

Unlike Mama, I wasn’t the least bit interested in learning how to drive.  When we were teenagers, my friends were anxious to learn to drive and get a license.  Not me.  The whole idea could not have been more unappealing.  I signed up for Driver’s Ed in school.  Hated it.  Hated it.  Hated it.  Didn’t get a driver’s license and felt somewhat fortunate and a lot relieved to have escaped with my life.  I actually made an A in that class.  Go figure – our grade was based on tests, not driving.

Time went by and I graduated from high school.  Without a driver’s license.  I started college.  Without a driver’s license.  I was an anomaly, but I was a very resourceful anomaly.  I always got where I needed to be.

If it hadn’t been for my brother’s best friend, I might still be bumming rides.  The three of us – my brother, Ricky (brother’s best friend), and I had gone to Deatsville to look at a snake.  (Yep – that’s another story, too.)  I don’t remember why, but we were in two vehicles and I was riding with Ricky.  On the way back, he said, “You can drive.”  What?!  Oh no I can’t.  No.  No.  No.  Bad idea.  Really bad idea. But he was persistent.  He said he knew I could do it and he would help.  So, with a white-knuckled death grip on the steering wheel – at 10 o’clock and 2 o’clock, of course – I headed onto the interstate.  God, please don’t let me get us killed.  Please help me.  PLEASE!!

And then Ricky said, “Where are you looking when you drive?”  Well, of all the dumb questions!  Where do you think I’m looking?!  He kept on, “Are you looking at the road right in front of the car?”  I said, “Yes.”  He said, “OK, that’s the thing we have to fix.  Look farther down the road at where you are going – that lets you really drive to where you want to be.”  I tried it.  Oh my goodness!  What a difference.  Driving was a piece of cake when I looked ahead instead of three feet in front of the bumper.  Who knew?!  Two weeks later, I got my driver’s license.  I was eighteen.  Really. Since then, I’ve had lots of chances in my life to employ my number one driving rule – look ahead to where you are going.  That’s how this cancer journey has been.  A year ago, I started looking ahead to where I wanted to be.  Done with chemo.  Done with Herceptin.   Done with radiation.  Cancer-free.  Getting on with my life.

Easy?  Nope.  Not even close.  But, so much easier than it could have been.  I spent my time doing as much looking ahead and looking up as I could.  God knew all along what I was going through.  He had it all under control, even when I didn’t.  My next surgery is Monday, May 14^th.  Reconstruction and port removal!  Woohoo!

All along, my prayer has been that I will learn what God has to teach me through this experience and that He will show me how to use it to help someone else.  I am amazed at the opportunities He has given me to help others in some small way.  I know for sure that it truly can be the small things that bring the most encouragement.  My prayer isn’t about doing something big.  It’s about not wasting this cancer.  It’s about doing what He has planned, no matter how insignificant it may seem to me.

Cancer doesn’t feel like a blessing.  The opportunities you get in the midst of cancer – well, that’s the blessing.  And I don’t want to miss any of them.

Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.  James 1:2