Daily Bread

Time seems to be crawling by right now.  I can't believe it has been just over 2 1/2 months since this all started--it feels like an eternity.  I find myself, for the first time in my life, wishing that summer would fly by fast--only because the end of summer coincides with the last chemo treatment.  I have gained greater appreciation for the mental endurance and patience that those with chronic illness must have.  For them, there is no end date in sight and no "back to normal" to look forward to.  Their race is a marathon, whereas for the time being, I feel like my particular race is a series of sprints followed by a period of recovery.

The week after chemo seems to be the sprint portion of the race (hard physically, emotionally, and mentally) and I am not sure I am enduring that very well.  I need to be better at taking in one day at a time.  I can only describe it as full body nausea--sick all over.  Then I say to myself "only 4 more to go" and it provides no comfort because just one of the chemo treatments feels like one too many!!!  So then I do what I do when I know that I need help enduring.  I pray and then I read.  I believe that "good information brings inspiration" and I NEED inspiration.

I re-read a CES fireside given by Elder D. Todd Christofferson, entitled "Give Us This Day Our Daily Bread." He shares a couple stories illustrating the importance of having faith and taking things one day a time.  Here it is, in his own words:

" A book I read recently, titled Lone Survivor, recounts the tragic story of a four-man team of U.S. Navy SEALs on a covert mission in a remote sector of Afghanistan five and one-half years ago....

In his book, Luttrell recounts the extreme training and endurance required for one to qualify as a SEAL in the U.S. Navy. In Luttrell’s training group, for example, of the 164 men who began, only 32 managed to complete the course. They endured weeks of near-constant physical exertion, in and out of cold ocean water, swimming, paddling and carrying inflatable boats, running in sand, doing hundreds of push-ups a day, carrying logs through obstacle courses, and so forth. They were in a near-perpetual state of exhaustion.

I was impressed by something a senior officer said to the group as they began the final and most demanding phase of their training.

“First of all,” he said, “I do not want you to give in to the pressure of the moment. Whenever you’re hurting bad, just hang in there. Finish the day. Then, if you’re still feeling bad, think about it long and hard before you decide to quit. Second, take it one day at a time. One [phase] at a time.

“Don’t let your thoughts run away with you, don’t start planning to bail out because you’re worried about the future and how much you can take. Don’t look ahead to the pain. Just get through the day, and there’s a wonderful career ahead of you.” ¹

Well I HAVE been letting my thoughts run away with me--including, but not limited to,  future treatments.  Even fearful thoughts of recurrence of the cancer and if I could endure doing this again.  My thoughts have run away with worrying about family members and people I love having to face this same kind of trial and worse.  I HAVE been looking ahead to the pain and the sickness--then comes the familiar sinking feeling, even a desire to shrink and shun the fight!

Elder Christofferson then shared a touching story about his own mother and how taking things one day at a time helped her to endure in her time of trial:

In the 1950s my mother survived radical cancer surgery, but difficult as that was, the surgery was followed with dozens of painful radiation treatments in what would now be considered rather primitive medical conditions. She recalls that her mother taught her something during that time that has helped her ever since: “I was so sick and weak, and I said to her one day, ‘Oh, Mother, I can’t stand having 16 more of those treatments.’ She said, ‘Can you go today?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘Well, honey, that’s all you have to do today.’ 

The hymn Lead Kindly Light expresses my feelings well "I loved to choose and see my path; but now, Lead thou me on!....Keep thou my feet; I do not ask to see the distant scene--one step enough for me."  Taking things one day at a time, one step at a time, relying on the Lord for our daily bread, will help my family and me develop the necessary faith and trust in God and His Son to help us endure this trial well--as well as other trials we will undoubtedly face.  So, do I shudder at the thoughts of another treatment? Yes...but I won't worry about it...at least for today.