A Road Less Traveled

A very dear friend of mine began chemo treatments for breast cancer yesterday morning. My heartfelt prayers go out to her and her husband, as they travel this road together. I am so grateful for the way my husband embraced every aspect of my disease a year ago. A road less traveled together, is a journey in holiness. It must be traveled together so that you both come out the other end at the same spot, still holding hands.

Yet even though we shared the same road,  God spoke individually to our hearts. My consolation was the glimpses of Christ's Passion that He allowed me to share with Him. I will try to articulate it here.

First came the Betrayal. Just as Jesus was betrayed by a friend, I too felt betrayed by my body. All along I felt and appeared to be healthy, yet it was there, lurking and growing. People refer to hidden sin and betrayals as "cancers" because they fester and grow silently until they become big enough to be detected. Sometimes these "cancers" grow to deadly proportions before they are detected.

Jesus, you were betrayed by one of your own, with a kiss. I have heard it said that this betrayal hurt more than any other physical abuses you endured during your Passion. Help me feel gratitude for the doctor's discovery rather than betrayed.

Then came the Agony. Just as Jesus had His Agony in the Garden, I too felt the agony of deciding which treatment plan to take. "Father, if it be Your Will, let this cup pass from me, but  not My Will but Yours be done."

My doctor gave his recommendation to treat the disease aggressively, but still, when the day was done, it was categorized as "elective" treatment. What exactly was I "electing" to do? What would be the side effects? Would they be temporary or permanent? Would I grow old and weak in front of my children's eyes? Would I have a normal life afterward? They got all the cancer during the lumpectomy and my nodes were clear. Shouldn't that be good enough? The questions haunted me and I agonized for two weeks.

Until my husband randomly cut open the bible one day, and read, "Honor the physician with the honor due him, according to your need of him, for the Lord created him; for healing comes from the Most High, and he will receive a gift from the king." (Sirach 38:1-2) Lord, thank you for your promises, and for a husband who trusts in You!

Then came the women weeping for Jesus on His road to Calvary. Jesus looked at them and said, "Women why do you weep? Weep not for me but for yourselves and your children."

I, too, did not want people to "weep" for me. Sometimes I became impatient with people who wanted to stop me and tell me how sorry they were for me and my nausea, fatigue, hair loss and inability to participate in life's functions. I wanted to tell them that I am safe in the arms of Jesus and to stop weeping for me, but to weep for themselves and their children.

I went to confession for this, because in my heart I was not being charitable to my neighbor. The priest suggested that I take on another one of Jesus' quotes instead, "Father forgive them, they know not what they do." Oh, boy, do I have a long way to go.

Then there were the moments of consolation. Just as Veronica wiped Jesus' face with her veil, so did my friends and family come to my aid in preparing countless meals for me and my family. We were literally carried over the rough spots (and there were many) on the wings of their love. We could not have come out the other side feeling the profound love of Jesus, had they not been willing to be His hands and feet.

I am in no way implying that I have felt what Jesus felt on His road to Calvary. Rather, I am pondering in my heart the revelations that only suffering can bring. Jesus, I don't want to hide in my own wounds and give in to self pity. Within Your wounds hide me, heal me, and make me whole.

To my dear friend and to all those who find themselves on the road less traveled, take courage! Jesus knows this road well, and He will be with you every step of the way.