Patience. In some ways this is the primary lesson of parenthood. First there is (sometimes) the waiting to get pregnant, then there is the waiting of nine long months of pregnancy, then there is the patience learned during labor, then comes a lifetime of having your children teach you patience while you try to teach them patience. It seems l’m destined to master another layer of patience as a parent. There is an interesting dichotomy when you are dealing with leukemia. The treatment plan is basically: we must do this now and do it big, there is no time to wait. Yet, somehow, I feel like we are always waiting. Waiting for doctors, waiting for test results, waiting for our turn in the treatment room, waiting for meds to be drawn up, waiting for counts to rise… waiting, waiting, waiting.
I’m trying to reframe waiting. It’s more than just a lesson in patience. The ultimate rewards are endurance, diligence and discipline. Our culture demands instant gratification which perpetuates a culture of laziness and a lack of self control. Those are things that I don’t want for myself or my children and I see how they have crept in unheeded.
For me, frequently, wait also equals worry. I experience this analytic brain insanity where I imagine every outlandish scenario. What I’m beginning to understand is that through my faith, wait can equal rest. Peace, stillness and rest. What a wonderful thing! Scripture says:
Psalm 37:7 – Rest in the Lord, and wait patiently for Him.
Isaiah 40:31 – Yet those who wait for the LORD Will gain new strength; They will mount up with wings like eagles, They will run and not get tired, They will walk and not become weary.
In order for me to find rest in the Lord it requires trust and complete dependence on Him. If I’m prepared to lay my burdens at his feet, while I’m waiting I can find rest.
So. If I must wait, the best possible way to do that is to “wait upon the Lord”. Expectantly. Confidently. Peacefully.
Speaking of waiting… we will finally receive our MRD results on Wednesday. I’m hopeful and ready to move on to the next step of treatment.
Because I have had more than a normal share of hospitals, doctors and tests and treatments (my husband was a liver transplant reciepient), I know what it is like to be married to the medical community. My heart goes out to you and your family. I also remember how grateful we were for all the support we received from not only those near to us, but from strngers as well; it was a wonderful comfort. While not quite a stranger to Ethan because it has been my pleasure to see him when he has visited his grandparents here in Mukilteo, I want to add my hopes and prayers for a complete recovery.
By the way, I have especially enjoyed Ethan’s enthusiasm at the community pool, so please tell him for me that I look forward to seeing him splashing around again this summer.
Emily, thank you for sharing your faith journey with us. I love how you articulate what you are feeling, I love what you’re saying, and I’m so thankful to God that he uses the most challenging circumstances to teach us the deepest things. I’m sure that not only you, but many others, are being and will be deepened through this season and through your willingness to let God be God in it.