life – Annie Roak Books

I don’t know about any of you, but I hate making decisions. I’m the absolute worst when it comes to making decisions. Try as I might to get better at the process by seeing each one from all angles and weighing options, even asking advice of others, I still struggle with making decisions. Sometimes they are stupid ones: “Do I like the green shirt or the blue one?” But most often the ones that haunt me are the ones I know are life changing – the ones that have no way of being undone once the choice is made.

And yes, I know the saying that sometimes gets tossed around that goes “nothing is permanent” but sometimes that just isn’t true. Some thing cannot be changed this side of heaven. However, it also is true that sometimes things seem more permanent than they really are. Sometimes it’s just the knowledge that a lot will have to change in the process if a choice is made one way or the other that really makes it difficult to know what’s right.

And, yes, I believe prayer helps and is an important tool to be used in all we do. But I’ve also experienced so many times in life where it doesn’t seen to matter how much or how hard I pray about something because no answers come. The other end remains silent and there is no clear direction. It’s just a choice. And I think those are the moments I struggle with the most because I really do want to do what’s right.

So what is to be done when those are the choices that lie ahead? What is the answer when no hint is given?

Unfortunately, I don’t have that answer. I wish I did. I really do. I wish I always felt peace about every choice I’ve ever made, but the truth is I don’t. I regret a lot and more often than not, I don’t feel settled about the choices I make. Sometimes I am left wondering for weeks – or even months – if the path I’ve taken is the one I’m supposed to be on. Sometimes I never get a confirmation either way.

Of course, at that point it’s too late to go back. At that point all I can do is keep moving forward the best I can and make the most of each day and every other decision that comes along. And without being able to see into the future, I think that’s all any of us can do. If we’ve sought counsel, His direction, and His Word, and weighed all the options as best we can than all we are left with is to take a step and make a choice.

It’s a real bummer for those of us that want to make sure we are doing the “right” thing, but sometimes I don’t think God asks us for the “right” thing but “a” thing. I think He asks us to move sometimes from the knowing into the unknown, to take a step of faith and not remain in that comfortable spot of having all the answers. Because if I’m honest with myself, I don’t know it all and will never know it all, even if I wish it was otherwise.

So, we breathe and pray and hope and cross all our fingers and toes and then make a choice as best we can, because we know that God walks with us each step of the way – even if we can’t see or hear Him move.

The aftermath of surgery is a hard place–no matter how minor or major it was. It’s been over fourteen weeks for me and I’m still trying to wrap my head around all that took place. To say that I regret the decision is wrong. But if you ask me whether or not I’m okay with it–that’s a different story. That answer still remains to be seen.

In one sense, I’m okay because I know it was the right decision. There is no other way to say “it had to be done” yet the loss of what could’ve been and no longer exists as a possibility is a heavy weight to bear. It’s a weight I still can’t think of without being mournful in some way, either through tears or general depression, because I know there’s no going back. There is no changing the outcome. What was done is done. Even though that finality is difficult to accept, I know it needed to happen. I know it in my heart and in my head. I knew it in the curtained-off waiting room, while signing the forms, and being wheeled back hall to the table. I knew it talking to all the doctors and nurses beforehand and when speaking to them afterward as I looked at the photos they took of the mass they removed.

And just to be clear, I did have a choice. I could’ve refused and left everything as it was, but there were a lot of side effects going on and continual blood infusions can only go so far. It really wasn’t as much of a question of if but when. So, I don’t regret the decision. I don’t wish I could go back and change it. Do I wish it never happened? Definitely. Do I wish I had more time to investigate other options? Maybe. But I think the uncertainty that surrounds me right now is not so much of a true uncertainty but a sadness. It’s not regret as much as it’s a profound sadness for all that’s changed. And sadness, I think, will be my companion for awhile. Because this was one of those unchangeable things that couldn’t be avoided no matter how much I wished and prayed for that to happen.

Now, don’t get me wrong, God can still do miracles. I firmly believe that, although I often have a hard time believing for such things to happen in my life, especially right now. It’s one of those things that seem like it’s meant for someone else to experience but not me. Which, I know isn’t true, but that’s where I am right now.

So it is to the moving forward that I must look. It is to the act of the picking up the pieces and making something out of what is–and not what could’ve been–that must draw my effort. Without that focus my world would forever remain dark and gray. It would become a place of perpetual night. And that can’t be where I stay because that leads to a black hole of selfishness and defeat. The choice to move on and find the pinprick of sunlight that lies hidden within the clouds is my goal for now. It may be awhile before I find it, but if I keep looking–instead of giving up or getting bogged down by regret–I might just find it someday. That–at least, for now–is my prayer.

Tag: life

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The Aftermath