Reaching for Balloons

We're all reaching for something aren't we, whether literally or figuratively? Perhaps some are reaching down to scoop up a newborn baby, while others are reaching for the memory of a baby that was never born. Perhaps some are reaching for a job computer on which to answer emails, while others are simply reaching for a job - of any kind. Perhaps some are reaching for the laundry of a messy husband, while others are simply reaching for the hope of a husband.

We spend our lives reaching for things around us, hoping we can finally grasp them within our hands or in our hearts and minds. We reach and long for the 'good ol' days', what once was. We reach for memories. We reach for people. We reach for better health, sharper minds, healthier relationships, more satisfying careers, more wealth, more fulfillment, more joy, more, more, more, better, better, better.

I was paging through personal journals back in early February when I came across an entry I wrote that actually somewhat startled me: 

“I feel like my biggest struggle lately really has been my brain. Concentration feels impossible. My mind feels scattered all the time, like I’m constantly reaching for the string of a balloon that has already drifted to the sky. Trying to study feels monumental because my mind is a constant pinball machine.” 

Don't you just love a good stock
photo?

I wrote that snippet nearly five years ago in July of 2020, as I was studying for a certification exam for my job. Even then, my mind felt fragmented and I was becoming keenly aware of it, enough so to comment on it multiple times. I wrote another entry in April that same year, "My short-term memory is another piece I’m concerned about. Sometimes swear I have ADD. My mind feels so scattered and fractured all the time. I’ll get sidetracked in the middle of a task and minutes or hours later, finally remember what it was that I was originally doing. It alarms me sometimes." 

Now, some of you would laugh and say that's just aging, but I would have been only thirty-five at the time. Given that multiple doctors have told me I've likely had this tumor for years, it's not out of the question that something was going on even then, subtle though it may have been. I remember even discussing with one of my healthcare providers at the time how much I was struggling to concentrate and line up my thoughts. I chalked it up to living in a tech-heavy world filled with constant distractions. And maybe that's truly all it was at the time and it had nothing to do with my brain tumor. I'll never know conclusively, and quite frankly, it doesn't matter because it's not going to change the present circumstances.

But ever since I've stumbled upon that July entry, I've been haunted by that visual, my arm reaching for the kite tail of a balloon, only to find it slipping out of my grasp. And I've been asking myself ever since then, What is it that I've been reaching for? And what am I hoping will happen once I've attained it and pulled it back down from its sky-ward trajectory?

I have yet to fully answer that question for myself, but I continue to hover over and around it, reaching for an answer to the very question about reaching itself. It's also made me pause and think a lot about the ways that God has been reaching for me, and not just in the past year, but for all my life.

Carolyn Weber lamented in her exquisite memoir Surprised by Oxford of how it took her so long to come to faith and belief in God. She was agnostic most of her life, but then went to the University of Oxford in England to pursue her graduate degree. It is there that she began questioning what she believed and why. She ultimately came to faith in God and converted to the Christian faith as found in the Bible. She shared a conversation she had with her friend Dorian as they walked home from one of the college balls (and when I say ball, I'm saying the fancy gown kind of ball):

Dorian spoke, "As I've discovered, Caro, if you look back on your life, you'll see His hand in it, and over you. You'll begin to see with new eyes all the times that were subtle as well as flagrant opportunities to know Him."   

"True, and yet why did not come to know Him until this year?" I asked. 

"Only God knows," Dorian chuckled. "But maybe that's not the question. Maybe the real question at stake is, why did he keep trying?"

In other words, why did God keep reaching for her, or for any of us, for that matter? Poet Francis Thompson does not call God "the Hound of Heaven" for nothing, does he? No, for God is a pursuing God, a relentless God who deeply desires for people to come to know him, and not just know him, but to know him personally, even though in part on this side of heaven, but then to fully know him once in heaven with him.

In the book of Acts, the apostle Paul proclaims to a crowd gathered in the Aeropagus, which was a gathering place in the ancient Greek city of Athens for all the thinkers and philosophers, answering in some ways the question Dorian posed to Carolyn:

The God who made the world and everything in it is the Lord of heaven and earth and does not live in temples built by human hands. And he is not served by human hands, as if he needed anything. Rather, he himself gives everyone life and breath and everything else. From one man he made all the nations, that they should inhabit the whole earth; and he marked out their appointed times in history and the boundaries of their lands. God did this so that they would seek him and perhaps reach out for him and find him, though he is not far from any one of us (Acts 17:24-27).

Why did God uniquely set each person in a unique century, in a unique year, on a unique continent, in a unique area, and in a unique city? He did that so that unique individual would have the optimal environment for seeking and reaching out to God. And not just to seek and reach for him, but to also find him. My existence as someone born specifically in the twentieth century, in a specific year, on a specific day, in a specific country, in a specific state, and in specific city, was so that I would have optimal opportunity to seek him, reach for him, and find him, even though he wasn't going to be far from me anyway. I am where I am, and you are where you are, so that we will reach for God and find him.

God desires to be found. And he's willing to go to great lengths to make that happen.

And in our reaching, we will find that he has been reaching back for us all along, just like Dorian told Carolyn. The real question at stake isn't why did it take us so long to reach for him, but rather why did he not relent in reaching for us?

When Jesus hung on the cross, his arms were stretched likely to his full wingspan, but I can assure you, in that moment, his reach was far greater than the mere width of that crossbeam, the mere width from his left fingertip to his right fingertip. Both in that moment and to this day, the cross was a display for all to see, that he and his Father were reaching for every lost and broken soul that has ever lived. The reach of the cross was not the length of a wooden crossbeam; it was the length of all eternity, across all locations, across all languages.

Maybe you've been reaching for him, maybe you haven't. The question at stake is, why is he continuously reaching for you? He’s reaching for you, whether you acknowledge it or are aware of it or not. 

That is no small love reaching for me, reaching for you.

I have not spoken in secret, from somewhere in a land of darkness;

I have not said to Jacob’s descendants, ‘Seek me in vain.’

I, the Lord, speak the truth; I declare what is right (Isaiah 45:19).

When we reach for him, for his beauty, his truth, his righteousness, his holiness, his glory, our seeking will not be in vain. 

May we all reach for Jesus even as we're reaching for whatever balloons we may be longing for. Perhaps we'll find him at the end of our balloon strings, waiting, reaching back. 

____________________________

Health Update

Whew. The past couple weeks have been a bit bumpy, both in side effects and in stress levels. I started cycle number seven, which means I would have been actively taking the chemotherapy March 11 through March 15. By the time March 13 rolled around, it was heading down hill. The nausea just gets atrocious, even with anti-nausea meds. Definitely threw up dinner one night. Couple other false alarms of wanting to get sick to my stomach and would just sit on the bathroom floor, waiting, and then nothing would ever happen. 

When it gets that bad, the hardest part is drinking and eating. Even water is disgusting to me at that time, which means I'm usually not getting enough fluids in me. Fruit juices seem to help the cause, although still not nearly the volume I would need to with water. It's also really hard to down my meds because I just want to gag all the time. I joked with my boss I was going to have to start playing the Chicago Bulls theme song, or some such hype music to get through my evening meds. (Feel free to post tips or other songs/hype music suggestions in the comments of how I can down meds when all I want to do is throw up.)  Of course, nothing ever sounds good to eat. I'm supposed to eat a 'well-balanced diet,' but when you're that miserable, eating kale or broccoli isn't exactly on the list of things that sounds appealing. 

Eventually I made it through to the other side and feel much better now. It's usually somewhere around Day 10 that I feel like a new person, and can function properly. Hopefully it's smooth sailing from here until the next round, which should be around April 7. However, this latest blood work showed that my white blood cells were the lowest they've ever been, so I was actually surprised when we moved forward without delay. It was mentioned that maybe we lower the dose in future cycles so that the blood counts don't take such a beating. I have my next follow-up with my neuro-onc on April 3.

As far as stress levels, that is related solely to issues with trying to get my possible new seizure med sorted out. Ya know, I thought I had some gumption before, but I am finding a whole new reservoir of it that I didn't know I had in me. I've really had to check myself because if there had been a broom within reach for several days this week and last, I'm pretty sure I would have turned into the Wicked Witch of the West. Thank God for the restraint of the Holy Spirit because if it's possible to get fired as a patient, I'm pretty sure I would have been if I had done and said what I really wanted to. I've just repeatedly hit the same roadblock over and over again - and surprisingly it's not with my insurance company! They've been great. It's with my seizure doc's staff. Good Lord Almighty, help me. The issue still hasn't been resolved, but I am praying to God it is soon, and that in the meantime, I would not fester and stew over the matter, like I am prone to.

Would appreciate your prayers on patience and that the process would unfold smoothly moving forward so that I can try the new medication to see if it helps the drowsiness I experience as a side effect.