Breathe AgainНамуна

Bad news sucks the air right out of our lungs. We hold our breath, hands to our mouth in disbelief as we listen to a life-changing diagnosis, the slam of the door as our husband walks out, or the voice of the banker explaining our house is going into foreclosure. Then, as the aftershocks overwhelm us and we cope as best we can, we struggle to keep breathing, gasping for each new lungful.

The second I was diagnosed with cancer I was called a survivor. At first, I embraced my new title with gusto and wore it with pride. Hardy by name, hardy by nature, that’s me. Until after a while I realized that’s all I was doing—merely surviving. Then I met others who had shunned the word “survivor” for its more exciting and hope-filled cousin “thriver,” and I was intrigued. It sounded so alive and full of hope and energy without glossing over the tough stuff. Thriving sounded like surviving but with life-giving benefits added in free of charge. I too wanted to thrive, not just survive.

I began to realize that living the full abundant life God has for us is possible right in the middle of our heartache, tragedy, and yearning. 

To grab hold of that full life, we’ve got to shatter the myth that seasons come and go, clearly defined by circumstances and emotions. Yes, we experience tough seasons and busy seasons, spiritually dry seasons and seasons bursting with excitement. But we assume these must be mutually exclusive, separated in time and space, and that it’s impossible to experience more than one season at a time. We forget to look for joy in the midst of deep grief or intimacy in a season of loneliness.

In the unsafe, raw darkness of my grief over losing my mother and sister to cancer and then being diagnosed with cancer myself, I was surprised to find myself able to hold hands with peace and fear in the same moment. I found I could laugh when all I wanted to do was scream. 

So although we’ve bought into the myth that a painful season can’t be full, that a time of abundance isn’t challenging, I just don’t think it’s true. That’s what this devotional is about: smashing this myth and inhaling all God has for us. 

How would you describe the season you are in? In what ways does this season hold both pain and joy?