A Toast to My 21st Cancer Anniversary

Today, my cancer anniversary can legally have a drink. I was twenty when I was diagnosed with stage three melanoma. Last year when I turned forty, it felt like the 20 years I lived past cancer nullified the 20 before- as if only then did I break even. This year feels like a bonus, like I’m finally in the black. It doesn’t make sense, but no one ever accused me of being good at math.

So, as a toast to my drinking-aged anniversary, I’ve written 21 things I’ve learned…so far:

1. You’ll rarely regret saying sorry.
2. If you’re asked to stand up in someone’s wedding, you are standing up for their whole marriage, not just the day. Take it seriously. And make sure they both know that if someday they want to end it- they’ll have to get through you first.
3. When you hug someone, don’t be the first to let go. My friend Hannah taught me this.
4. Wear more sunscreen than you think you need.
5. Observe a formal sabbath. Not much has been more formative for my soul than taking one day each week and laying it all down: my relevance, my availability, my watered-down notion that I can do it all, my pride of pushing through, my work ethic and my unrelenting drive. God gives the rest, but we have to receive it.
6. When in doubt, dance it out.
7. In trying to live out the Christian life, don’t ask yourself What Would Jesus Do? It’s kind of a terrible question. A) Because Jesus did different things even when presented with the same scenario. That’s what drove the Pharisees crazy. He was a real wild card. B) we are called to love God, not BE God. To be more precise, we are told to love God and love others as we love ourselves. That’s three people to love, and if you filter much of life’s questions through that grid the world becomes a little clearer.
8. Cultivate generosity. It does much more for the giver than the receiver.
9. Similarly to that, practice a regular pattern of tithing when you are young and poor. It’s much harder to tithe when the checks get bigger.
10. Suffering is not the worst thing that will happen to you. I’m beginning to think dreading suffering is often more punishing than the suffering itself. Dread is all in the future “what if…happens? I’ll never survive” and when you project yourself into the future, a place where you can’t access God’s grace, the only response available is fear. As finite beings, we can only access grace today, which is why dread torments us in a unique way. Dread is the enemy’s territory. Suffering is God’s territory because Jesus did it too. And like Him, it will do work in you that cannot be done any other way. Trying to escape it just attaches it like dead weight to your heels, and you’ll end up dragging it along in your life, much longer than it was intended to hang around. And when it knocks at your door, try to remember that nothing comes to you that didn’t pass through Him first.
11. Go to sleep, try again tomorrow.
12. Do the work to cultivate deep, meaningful friendships. Don’t settle for boring, surface gossip as a glue to hold you to other people. Be willing to let toxic people go. If someone makes you feel terrible or uncomfortable, do the work of self-assessment: why do I feel so drained after being with this person? What are they triggering? And who knows? In all that self-assessment you may realize you’re the toxic one. Better to learn these things early on.
13. Assume the best of people, even if they make it difficult.
14. Practice the spiritual disciplines of active listening, not having the last word, and letting things go.
15. Learn to ask better questions, especially of those that are suffering. Instead of asking questions that assuage your own curiosity (What did the last scan show? Will you do chemo? Are you going to try for another baby?) ask questions, and only if you’re close enough, for the sake of the other (Where is your soul right now? How can I join you in your grief? What else? Tell me more?). If not, no questions. Just bring lasagna.
16. If you have an important meeting and your kid just started throwing up, this is not a roadblock in your day. I’m writing this as I had an important meeting today and my youngest threw up on me 3 minutes before walking out the door to school. I am back in my pajamas typing. Be willing to accept what is before you as God’s plan A for the day. This is very hard. But we must believe God knows what He is doing. I remind myself a dozen times a day to stop trying to climb over what seems like life’s obstacles. The obstacles are the thing.
17. Take the humble road. This solves 75% of my parenting problems. Telling my kids that I really don’t know if I’m doing any of this right and that I’m really sorry, and I’ll put away a little extra cash for future therapy sessions, cracks them open in a way nothing else can. It works pretty great for other relationships as well. Most people just want to feel understood.
18. Put your phone down. Especially in lines at the grocery store (WAIT-ESPECIALLY IN YOUR CAR OMG). Look at people. In their corneas. Strike up conversations. Remember when we used to have those? With strangers? We are in an epidemic of loneliness out there, we need some emotional EMTs on the streets.
19. Tell the truth.
20. Fear is like a drunk girl at a party, she may have some valid points but don’t make any major decisions based on what she’s told you.
21. Of all these things, I’m only actually sure of this one- Jesus holds. I’ve raged, I’ve cried, I’ve pestered and begged and pleaded and cursed. I’ve negotiated and cajoled. I’ve made demands. I’ve made promises I haven’t kept and broken things I cannot repair. I’ve told Him to let me be, and I’ve grabbed onto Him for dear life. I’ve shot Him up with all my best ammunition, poked my fingers in every angle of an argument, given up on Him 100 times. But He holds. I don’t know a better way to say it. He always will.