I was feeling bad the other day, and someone asked me how I was doing. I usually answer that question candidly, and I appreciate when others reciprocate. I don’t spend much time with people I don’t care that much about it anymore, so when I ask how you are doing, I really want to know. And when you ask me, I assume you do to. I still run into the occasional surprise when I give a person a real honest answer and they appear uncomfortable, almost as if was giving them too much information. Oops, sorry my cancer is uncomfortable for you, didn’t mean to bore you with the details.
But the truth is I am not that bad off, not when compared to so many others I see in chemo sessions, or wearing bandanas on blood test Mondays at Duke oncology, or being pushed in a wheel chair between doctor appointments. Its not hard to realize I am so fortunate.
As I was having a pity party for myself the other day as I watched my kids playing at the playground, I looked up and saw a man wearing oxygen tube in his nose and carrying a hand held oxygen tank. It was almost as if the Lord was saying to me "look, Scott, everyone has problems."
If you are alive, you have something that someone might call a problem; many of them physical and health problems and by any measure, my fatigue from this darn leukemia is small in comparison.
I read a book by Tom Brokaw, the famous NBC nightly news anchor man who is battling myeloma. The book title was A LUCKY LIFE INTERUPTED, and that’s pretty explanatory about the entire book. When I finished the last chapter, I was not inspired and in fact I was a little peeved. Tom’s position was that cancer had interrupted his life. I don’t see it that way, I think that cancer is part of my life, just like the great parents I had, and wonderful brother and sisters, just like the college scholarship I received to play football, or the chance I had to watch NFL football games from the sidelines as a backup quarterback for three seasons. Just like when my dad died from brain cancer, or when my wife and I lost a little girl at birth. Leukemia is not an interruption. It is part of life, and while I don’t wish it on anyone else, I certainly don’t look at it as an inconvenience. Its life, and its to be lived. Fortunately I live by faith. I believe in life and eternal life, not life and death. And I am fighting for my life for my children and my wife so the story of their life isn’t "widowed at 40" or "lost my dad at age 10."
We all have problems. In the best of days, if I had energy, I would like to interview everyone I meet in a day and ask them "what’s your problem?” And I am sure after only 5 or 6 conversations, I would take my problems and go home grateful.
Perspective is such an important tool in our lives.
I pray that I can encourage and inspire and offer some to you.
Amen and AMEN