Monday, October 21, 2024

Mondays + Forevers

As much as I have always loved Karen Carpenter I never really agreed much with her feelings about Monday mornings. Or rainy days, for that matter.
For most of my life Monday mornings, for me, have felt like a fresh start. A new beginning. A reset for each new week. 

And, for what it's worth, I actually adore a solid rainy day. 

But the past 6 Mondays have brought with them a trek downtown at rush hour for an acupuncture treatment in hope of combatting the knee pain I have from my other treatments. And, unfortunately, it's not helping much. I have other things on the horizon, but this was our first step to keep me walking. Zero pun intended.

I got in the car this morning and felt the gray cloud climb right in with me. As I drove to the hospital, my frustrations and ugly thoughts swirled unswervingly. Suffocating, actually. My brain bounced from one negative thing to another. 

Where was my Monday morning magic? My reset?  My rest-assured? My new-week renewal?

And so the pity party began. I had an hour drive ahead of me fighting traffic-- Did you know at one point there are 9 lanes of traffic going into the city of Atlanta?  And that's only one way. If we doubled that for traffic moving north bound it would be 18 lanes. If it wasn't insane, it would be almost funny! But funny it is not.—Fighting traffic only to arrive at the hospital and join a line which would feel longer than a popular ride at Disney World. And why? Oh yes, so that I could have someone stick about 20 needles into my body.

The whole time I  kept thinking-- and this is the good stuff! This is part of the healing. Part of the helping. Next week I will start a new series of scans and tests and that's the hard part. The really hard. The really ugly. And in keeping with this particular state of mind, I reminded myself all of this goes on forever. There's no end in sight. No stopping of treatment or scans or celebratory bell ringing with what I've got. It's for always. It’s forever.

So, yeah. That black cloud. It was only growing blacker. Bleaker. Heavy and oppressive. I knew where I was headed and I knew 9 lanes of traffic or not, it was a dead end. This kind of thinking is death. As easy as it is to fall into a pattern of pity party grumbling and complaining, it leads nowhere good. You know that. I know that. But it’s hard to avoid at times.

No amount of talking to myself was getting me off this path. So I knew I needed something. I needed to stop the thoughts in my head and decided to opt for music.  But no way was Karen Carpenter going to cut it. Recently I had copied my sweet DIL's Spotify playlist and so, even with my bad attitude, I decided to start with that. I hit play.  

Kari Jobe’s old song "Forever" was first up. Really? Forever? Wasn't that word just part of my utter agitation? Like the 9 lanes of traffic, almost funny. Definitely not funny. Forever. But it didn't take long because within minutes of her music I could feel the cloud begin to lift. The load to lighten. The grumbling to move aside for gratitude. 

Is it magic? No! It’s the mystery of Jesus. It's His words. His worthiness. His worship. It's him which sets me on the road to renewal and a much needed re-set on this Monday morning and every morning. When I forget that, I end up fighting more than my knee pain or the cancer in my bones. I end up fighting fears and frustrations He never asked me to carry. I end up in a place he never intended me to go. I end up with a weight I have no ability to shoulder.

Have you ever been on this kind of dead-end road? If so, you know it gets you nowhere fast.

The music ended and the car was parked and I walked into the Emory downtown hospital campus. And, yes, the line was as long as I have ever seen it. I am not sure it would be an exaggeration to say it was close to 100 people waiting to check in at registration. A hundred cancer patients should never have to line up and wait like this. It is appalling. It is definitely not Disney World.

But here we all were and I’m pretty sure if I hadn’t had that reset with Kari Jobe’s music in my car a few minutes earlier my head would have spun off it’s axis and I might just have exploded all over this Emory Hospital entryway. Thankfully that wasn’t the case.


I remembered the song lyrics I was just singing in my car. The song, the words, the message, the Man of Jesus. Jesus who understands the long lines and the dead ends and the dark clouds and the dark days and the hard Mondays and the hateful treatments. Jesus the Resurrected King. He is it. He is the only thing keeping me from total despair. As I stood there in the long line and limped forward one step at a time, I was more certain than ever that even if this line and my treatments go on forever He is walking right alongside me. He is right here. I might have some sad Mondays, but He is right here with me every day. Forever. 

FOREVER ~ Kari Jobe.   YouTube link if you'd like to listen: Forever

The moon and stars they wept

The morning sun was dead

The Savior of the world was fallen

His body on the cross

His blood poured out for us

The weight of every curse upon Him

One final breath He gave

As Heaven looked away

The Son of God was laid in darkness

A battle in the grave

The war on death was waged

The power of hell forever broken

The ground began to shake

The stone was rolled away

His perfect love could not be overcome

Now death where is your sting

Our resurrected King

Has rendered you defeated

Forever, He is glorified

Forever, He is lifted high

Forever, He is risen

He is alive

He is alive

The ground began to shake

The stone was rolled away

His perfect love could not be overcome

Now death where is your sting

Our resurrected King

Has rendered you defeated

Forever, He is glorified

Forever, He is lifted high

Forever, He is risen

You have overcome

We sing Hallelujah

The Lamb has overcome.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Dearest Jody, you are an inspiration and I pray for you.

Anonymous said...

Thank you for allowing us to share in your journey. You are being prayed for Jody!!