My smile evaporated. I turned from reading an email about a funny family incident and checked my calendar for the next few days.
Tuesday, March 29—my next cancer screening appointment.
My stomach clenched. Amazing how quickly fear stole my laughter. Fear does that. Here’s the weird part, though. I’m celebrating my fifth year cancer-free. That’s a huge milestone. So why does this test cause acid reflex? There shouldn’t be a problem. I have no cause for worry. No new symptoms or old ones for that matter. I should be okay. Do my feelings make any sense at all?
Perhaps this blog post has hit you out of the blue. Maybe you’re saying, this is supposed to be a blog about travel. I didn’t read it looking for a belly drop. I read it looking for fun ideas and places to go. I wanted to know the scenic route, not get lost in the sticks.
This is the scenic route.
It’s called life. We’re all on a journey everyday. And sometimes if we’re really lucky, we get a chance to evaluate it through an unexpected detour.
Last fall we took a road trip through unfamiliar territory in southern Missouri. Near_____ we missed our exit. Twice. We tried turning around, but there was no connection to the highway that direction unless we backtracked for miles. We didn’t have time for that. After studying the map we determined our best course was a two-lane county road. Eventually it would re-connect with the correct major highway. Once we made that choice, we were stuck with it.
This road led through a sparsely populated forest. All those trees hid the fading sunlight. We climbed winding steep hills, spun round spirals, and plunged into deep valleys—a true roller-coaster road. The speed limit was thirty miles an hour. We couldn’t go any faster safely. We still had miles to go and I was carsick.
The road we traveled was near a portion of the Mark Twain National Forest. At that moment, we were traveling through some of the most beautiful land we’d seen the whole trip. Turns out, the sticks were the scenic route.
Beautiful as it was, I’d rather not go that way again. At least I’d rather not take the trip under the same circumstances—at dusk, in unfamiliar territory and nauseated.
I feel much the same way about cancer. I’d rather not repeat the trip. It led me places I didn’t want to go.
However, if I look at the experience with an unblinking eye I have to note its significance. When I faced the potential of death, it made me evaluate my life. Did my life count for anything?
As you read this blog post, I may either be on my way to my appointment, at my appointment undergoing the tests or on my way home. I might even be out celebrating, but my celebration will be a quiet one. Relief will wash over me and I will sing praise to God for allowing me to escape cancer’s evil tentacles once again.
If this post has been as hard for you to read as it was for me to write, perhaps you’re on your own rough journey or unexpected detour.
Long ago there was one who determined that your life is worth a great deal. To prove your value he died and rose again so you might live, too. His name is Jesus Christ. We celebrated his resurrection two days ago. I invite you to take stock of your present circumstances and set your course to know him better.
Please feel free to leave a comment below or you may contact me if you’d prefer to leave a private message. Let me know how I may pray for you.
Whatever route your life takes, I pray your self-evaluation leads you to the one true light—Jesus Christ.
Until next time…Travel Light,
© 2016 SuZan Klassen