Give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.
–1 Thessalonians 5:18
The image was split into four squares, each boasting a picture meant to transport the mind to a peaceful destination; a place far from reality. The crisp blue sky was bright without blemish. The tree’s leaves were a cheerful green, poking from the slender branches that dressed the corners of each canvas. The artistic tiles; a mirage of a beautiful summer sky captured from the eyes of one lounging below, the way a child sprawls in the grass to identify the shapes of the clouds.
Every day at 3:15pm, she stared at the flawless ceiling scene for exactly two minutes. The painted leaves never swayed in a breeze and the wispy white clouds didn’t float across the blue sky, changing position or shape. It remained still, yet beautiful. The best view she could hope for as the radiation penetrated through her skin. With a second diagnosis of cancer in my mom’s lifetime, she handled the news with a dose of reality and the biggest handful of faith she could grab.
The breast cancer diagnosis hit in all the ways people say it does; a punch to the gut, a rug yanked from under your feet; a hot wave dumped over your body. After the lump was removed, she was sentenced to five weeks of radiation at 3:15, every day. As she gazed into the image of the sky, she decided that her two minutes would be best spent listing off things she was thankful for, so each day she thanked God for whatever came to mind. If she was forced to lay under a machine and look into a facade, she’d pair it with the reality of all the good God has done.
And after those five weeks, at the end of the journey that once looked like a tall, merciless mountain whose peak was hidden in a ghostly sky, she saw the top and met the end of treatment. Done. Red, tired skin and an 8.5 by 11 sheet of paper certifying that she had indeed graduated from her daily radiation course.
Have you ever tackled a fear, overcome a challenge or hiked through grief only to come out on the other side wondering…now what? You met an end you never even wanted to know the beginning of. You graduated from a course you never registered for. You reached the top of a hill someone forced you to climb. How can any of that possibly feel rewarding? It would be normal to wish the journey was never mandated in the first place, so to allow a sense of accomplishment to join you in the end feels like a betrayal to your innermost desires.
When the next day rolled in like a lazy wave, joining the ocean of normalcy, she found herself sitting outside on the back patio. A March afternoon in Florida. An afternoon she wasn’t obligated to fight the traffic and make it to the doctor’s office for her appointment. What will I do at 3:15 every day she teased; she wondered. She tipped her head back and stared into the bright blue sky. The giant oak trees in the backyard dangled branches decorated with vibrant green leaves. The vast sky only housed a few clouds; clouds as white as snow that grazed across the landscape, melting into different shapes as they journeyed the heavens.
She stared at the scenery, now complemented by the chirping of birds, the coolness of the breeze and the smell of fresh grass. Her ceiling scape brought to life, all in her very own backyard. The reality of what that innocent image tried so hard to create, but slightly fell short. At 3:15 that day, under the breathing sky, she told God all the things she was thankful for. And although a technician didn’t enter the room after two minutes to signal the end of treatment, a meeting place with God was formed in a place she never wanted to be.
When it seems impossible to muster thoughts of thankfulness in your darkest places, and all you have to view is the pitiful imitation of something good, remember God can work in those places and carry you through to true beauty.
And one day, when all the journeys are concluded and the goals have been accomplished, we’ll find that even what we viewed as real beauty and perfection on this earth was only a reflection of what’s to come.
