Ask All The Questions

Anyone remember that Hyperbole and a Half cartoon by Ally Brosh that went viral a few years ago because you could apply it to anything and everything? The “All the things” cartoon? Ya know…this one!

Well, that cartoon is an accurate description of how my brain has been for the past week. And for me, the caption to it would be, “Ask all the questions!” Or, “Anticipate all the things!” It has been non-stop, guys. Non-stop. So many questions. All the questions.

Some of them were normal life questions like,

“How do I clean my favorite white sneakers that aren’t looking so pearly white anymore?” (Because almost every outfit involves the stipulation that it must work with white sneakers. On a side note, anyone know how to clean Adidas court shoes?)

“What’s that bright streak of light in the night sky that looks so weird?” (It was a meteor burning up in the atmosphere. Well, that or ET is hiding in someone’s closet again.)

“How can I up my Mario Kart game so I don’t get creamed again?” (I’m not used to losing, but Friday night just wasn’t my night.)

Some of them were “not normal” life questions like,

“If I get told I have cancer, should I throw a party so I can surround myself with the people I love to remind myself how blessed I am?” (The answer to this is yes. I would definitely do that. And I would call it my “I’m So Blessed” party.)

“If I need chemo and I lose my hair, will I lose my eyebrows? And if I lose my eyebrows, am I artistically gifted enough to learn how to pencil them on with makeup without making them look SUPER fake?” (I took art lessons in elementary school, so I have a decent shot, right? I mean, how difficult can it be compared to a still life of pears?………You’re right, I should bring in a professional.)

“Is my best friend’s offer to help me wash a wig still open?” (When I was first told I needed a biopsy to check for breast cancer, this was one of my biggest concerns. If I ended up needing a wig, what would happen if the company had washed the hair with a shampoo/conditioner that I’m allergic to? One of my best friends, being the wonderful person she is, immediately volunteered to wash it for me should a wig be needed.)

“Am I sad that dad isn’t here to walk with me through this or am I thankful he’s not because of the special kind of pain I know this would cause him?” (The answer to that is “a little bit of both”.)

Now, I know what many of you would say to most of these “not normal” life questions.

“Katie, those are ‘tomorrow’ questions.”

And yes, you are correct. However, there’s nothing like being told you have an unknown mass in your liver to help switch your brain into overthinking mode. And, while I do enjoy spontaneity in life, there are many ways in which I very much prefer to have a plan. So I find a little bit of peace in thinking through the questions and planning for any possibility. But if I think about them too much, the peace turns to panic and I start wishing I could just run away from everything. I’ve learned, though, that running away doesn’t work. I wrote once about how I tried to run away from the grief of losing my dad, only to learn that grief is like your shadow. You can’t outrun it. And you can’t outrun pain either.

So here I am. Sitting down instead of running. Sitting and thinking about all of the questions. Thinking about all of the questions and trying to find answers that will calm my anxious heart. But I can’t. There are no answers to the “not normal” life questions that would bring me peace right now because I’m asking all the wrong things. There’s only one question that will bring me any peace right now and that is,

“If this is cancer, will the Lord walk with me through that fire and give me the strength I need to make it through each day?”

And the answer to that question is “yes”.

Two years ago today I posted the following status on Facebook:

“Something I’m meditating on tonight. At some point in our lives, I firmly believe each of us will face a bodily affliction that we cannot change. A weakness that brings discouragement and that we may also be ashamed of or embarrassed by. And it won’t be easy to look at it as something to boast about. But HIS power is made perfect in OUR weakness. Do we want to miss out on that blessing by refusing to accept the weakness and surrender to Him in the midst of it?

But He said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’ Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong. – 2 Corinthians 12:9-10”

Katie of August 2020 had no idea what the next two years would hold. She had no idea that she’d need a biopsy in early 2021. She had no idea that doctors would continue to have no answers to the mystery of her health in 2022. She had no idea that her radiologist would find a mass in her liver in August of 2022, bringing to life a fear that was supposed to be irrational. No, by God’s grace, she knew only what she needed to know in that moment. That the Lord was her strength.

And He is still my strength today. And He will be my strength tomorrow and the next day and the next day, whether those days show that this mass is benign or cancerous. Brothers and sisters in Christ, when you find your mind switching into overthinking mode—when you find yourself thinking, “Ask all the questions!”—remember to ask yourself, “Is the Lord my strength?” And find peace in knowing that the answer to that question is “yes”. Find peace in knowing that this answer means that the answers to all of the other questions can wait. Try to learn how to rest in that “yes”.