TimeHop
Most of you are probably familiar with #TBT - where you tag a picture from the past in honor of "Throwback Thursday." Building on that idea, there is an app called TimeHop that will show you your activity on this date in years past. It's fun to look back and see things like the fact that a year ago today I was angry at daylight savings time for stealing my sleep or that two years ago today I was in NYC "eating the best cannoli on planet earth." But, unlike a similar feature within Facebook, TimeHop pulls content from Google apps as well as social media sites. I sometimes get to see pictures that didn't make the cut for Instagram or Facebook or ones I have forgotten ever taking.
Usually, that's fun. Other times, like yesterday, you stumble upon something that reminds you of a reality you were trying to forget for a while. Yesterday, when TimeHop invited me to see what happened on this day, I happily scrolled through way too many pictures of New York City two years ago (since it also pulls from Google photos, it shows me every picture I took, not just the good ones I carefully selected for posting to social media). I zipped through 50+ pictures until this flashed on my screen, indicating it was from four years ago:
I don't even remember taking these pictures, but maybe I was trying to send a proud selfie to Kevin, showing how "long" my hair had gotten in the two-plus months post-chemo. Yesterday, when I saw that these pictures were from four years ago, it seemed like the app must have gotten the timing wrong. It couldn't be only four years ago that I was recovering from chemo. It seems like a lifetime ago.
And here I am, only four years later, fighting this disease all over again. Seeing these pictures so unexpectedly felt like a punch in my gut that took my breath away. While they might have once been happy pictures - hooray, I'm recovering from chemo and reclaiming my life - now they make me angry - that I went through disfiguring surgery (even removing my healthy breast as a preventative measure) and months of chemo, just to have it come back somewhere else, somewhere incurable, only 3.5 years later.
Cancer, I was done with you after my treatment in 2011. Dealing with you was so hard, but I did it. You demanded I give you my hair, my figure, and six months of my life, which I agreed to. And now you're back for more, you greedy disease. Wasn't that enough? Did you really have to take my ability to have children, as well as my qualifications for adopting any?* Did you have to shorten my life and give me chronic pain?
I don't believe that anger at cancer is a contradiction to my faith. God is still ultimately in control and working things for my good and His glory. But we live in a broken world, where things like cancer thrive, and I believe we can and should be angry at this evidence of sin and destruction. The world as we know it is not what God created. This is His beautiful creation twisted by Satan to reap death rather than life. And it makes me weep to see those suffering from it.
Joey Feek died of it less than a week ago, at age 40. Kara Tippetts died almost a year ago, only three years older than me. Other women my age in circles I frequent have been diagnosed recently. Almost every book I pick up recently seems to have a character who dies of cancer. It's a terrible disease and I hate all it's taken from these women and from me. It's one of Satan's cruelest tricks.
But it's only temporary. It can steal away things on earth, but everything stored away in heaven is safe. It is hard not to compare my life with others' sometimes and wonder why I got the seemingly short end of the stick. But God says that He collects our tears in a bottle. Not a single one goes unnoticed. Somehow, it will all be made right. I don't understand how and sometimes it's hard to dismiss the current pain for a future hope that hasn't been explicitly explained. Oh, for grace to trust Him more!
*Adoption applications ask if you've ever been diagnosed with cancer and you have to get a release from your doctor saying you're cured before they will process your application. They want to ensure you will live until the child gets to adulthood.
Usually, that's fun. Other times, like yesterday, you stumble upon something that reminds you of a reality you were trying to forget for a while. Yesterday, when TimeHop invited me to see what happened on this day, I happily scrolled through way too many pictures of New York City two years ago (since it also pulls from Google photos, it shows me every picture I took, not just the good ones I carefully selected for posting to social media). I zipped through 50+ pictures until this flashed on my screen, indicating it was from four years ago:
I don't even remember taking these pictures, but maybe I was trying to send a proud selfie to Kevin, showing how "long" my hair had gotten in the two-plus months post-chemo. Yesterday, when I saw that these pictures were from four years ago, it seemed like the app must have gotten the timing wrong. It couldn't be only four years ago that I was recovering from chemo. It seems like a lifetime ago.
And here I am, only four years later, fighting this disease all over again. Seeing these pictures so unexpectedly felt like a punch in my gut that took my breath away. While they might have once been happy pictures - hooray, I'm recovering from chemo and reclaiming my life - now they make me angry - that I went through disfiguring surgery (even removing my healthy breast as a preventative measure) and months of chemo, just to have it come back somewhere else, somewhere incurable, only 3.5 years later.
Cancer, I was done with you after my treatment in 2011. Dealing with you was so hard, but I did it. You demanded I give you my hair, my figure, and six months of my life, which I agreed to. And now you're back for more, you greedy disease. Wasn't that enough? Did you really have to take my ability to have children, as well as my qualifications for adopting any?* Did you have to shorten my life and give me chronic pain?
I don't believe that anger at cancer is a contradiction to my faith. God is still ultimately in control and working things for my good and His glory. But we live in a broken world, where things like cancer thrive, and I believe we can and should be angry at this evidence of sin and destruction. The world as we know it is not what God created. This is His beautiful creation twisted by Satan to reap death rather than life. And it makes me weep to see those suffering from it.
Joey Feek died of it less than a week ago, at age 40. Kara Tippetts died almost a year ago, only three years older than me. Other women my age in circles I frequent have been diagnosed recently. Almost every book I pick up recently seems to have a character who dies of cancer. It's a terrible disease and I hate all it's taken from these women and from me. It's one of Satan's cruelest tricks.
But it's only temporary. It can steal away things on earth, but everything stored away in heaven is safe. It is hard not to compare my life with others' sometimes and wonder why I got the seemingly short end of the stick. But God says that He collects our tears in a bottle. Not a single one goes unnoticed. Somehow, it will all be made right. I don't understand how and sometimes it's hard to dismiss the current pain for a future hope that hasn't been explicitly explained. Oh, for grace to trust Him more!
*Adoption applications ask if you've ever been diagnosed with cancer and you have to get a release from your doctor saying you're cured before they will process your application. They want to ensure you will live until the child gets to adulthood.
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