My husband has a childhood friend who is dying of cancer. It is heartbreaking in every way. He has three young kids, a wife that adores him, and is a good man. They've tried everything, and it has been a long battle, but it looks like it may draw to a close within the next year.
I can't even begin to imagine the pain, heartbreak, and desperation they feel. I know their testimonies have been strengthened. I know they have given it everything they have and they have a long road ahead of them still. It isn't fair. Not in any way.
The one, small silver lining is that they have learned to appreciate the present and never waste a moment. They are busy making memories together. In fact, there are a number of charitable groups that have provided them with trips to Hawaii, Jackson Hole, and more, just so they can make memories as a family. People have organized fundraising softball tournaments and dinners. Neighbors stop by and bring dinner, tend their kids, and provide a listening ear and a shoulder to cry on. They have felt an outpouring of love from their community, and they deserve it.
For the record, I would never want to be in their shoes. Ever. My heart truly aches for them as they experience the ongoing pain of chemo, tests, bad news, and the constant passing of time.
The thing is....sometimes I feel like my home is being invaded by a spiritual cancer. This addiction crept in long before either of us realized what it was. It grew in secret and isolation. It's ugly symptoms took over and changed everything, and we're both left feeling hopeless and scared. It eats away at love, trust, intimacy, confidence, and our entire family life. It is destroying our souls.
There is no cure.
We weep behind closed doors. We petition the Lord for help. I spend hours scouring the Internet, trying to find some bit of information that can help. Maybe this therapist? Maybe that book? Maybe a new program? We try to live a "normal" life and put on a happy face at family events so nobody will know about this soul-cancer. We joke around with friends as if stealing the bedcovers is the biggest sticking point in our marriage.
After a new lie is discovered I look around in despair at my messy house, my demanding children, my church calling, and my part-time job, and I die even more inside. My head and my heart are a mess of emotions and pain. Trying to fix waffles for my kids, while keeping my back to them as silent tears stream down my face, drains the last bit of energy that I have. I wish desperately that someone would show up on my doorstep with a casserole, some cleaning supplies, a fun game for my kids, or even just a hug.
But no one comes. The shame of this addiction silences my cries for help. The fear of judgment, the fear of not feeling safe, my pride - all keep me from telling people what is really going on in my life. I even sugar-coat things for the ladies in my 12-step group, because I feel like my pain and my challenges don't compare to some of the things they've endured, so how can I ask for something from them? I feel alone, even though I know there are others in my shoes.
All my memories with my husband are tainted. Everything, even the birth of my children, is changed by the knowledge of his lies and betrayals. I wonder if we can ever make new memories, clean from the darkness this addiction brings.
There is no cure for this...but there is healing. I am trying to heal. It feels like a fight. Some days it feels like too much, some days it feels like there is hope. I am trying to learn to live in the moment, not in the pain of the past or the fear of the future. I am trying to trust my God.
I am grateful we are not dealing with a devastating physical disease that could alter our lives forever. Please make no mistake about that. But sometimes, I wish that cancer of the soul would be recognized and supported, too. I wish there were no shame or judgment around it.
I wish someone would come to my door with a hug and a listening ear. A casserole wouldn't be bad either ;)
