Reflections From a Daughter

(Much of this next entry may not seem applicable to Mama’s journey of cancer. It may not be a post you would be interested in reading. But this blog has become a space for me to release the tension of pent up thoughts in my soul. It is an escape for me, another quiet place for me to meet with God. I recognize it as another gift to me from Him. Thank you for indulging me.)

Lately, my thoughts have been fixated upon the life Jesus came to give. Specifically, I have been focusing on John 10:10:

“I came that they may have life and have it abundantly" (NASB).

“I came that they may have and enjoy life, and have it in abundance (to the full, till it overflows)” (Amplified).

“I came so that they could have life—indeed, so that they could live life to the fullest”  (Common English Bible).

Life to the fullest. Each day overflowing with abundance. Hours passed in pure enjoyment and delight. That is our lot. This is the nature of the life He came to give. He didn’t suffer on the Cross, bearing all sin, sorrow, depression, poverty, captivity, depravity, and disease so that I can live a life of drudgery, passing boring days in mundane ritual in my attempt to survive until the weekend. No! He came to give life! And not just ordinary life. It is a life filled with the riches of Himself, expressed in the height of ecstatic joy, relishing in the freedom of today, savoring the beauty of each moment. This is my portion and I am determined to accept nothing less.

But what does abundant life look like in a world dictated by systems and injustices where work schedules and taxes are a must and where cancer and disease play their course? Indeed, I use to limit abundant life to the rare moments I fulfilled something on my bucket list, be it parachuting or crossing another state border. Or possibly after visiting the Seven Wonders of the World then, just maybe, my life would be abundant. No. Something in the pit of my stomach stirs causing my heart to faintly believe that it is here, it is available to me now.

Perhaps it is not a destination to be reached but a reality to be enjoyed, an invitation to stop anticipating for the future and begin drinking in the adventure of the moment. Perhaps it is not an abstract thing but a very tangible Person who is the "resurrection and the life" and who chooses to indwell the hearts of men to offer them such rich existence all of their days. Thousands of precious moments, each a gift, an extended reminder of grace, yet many times masked by the stress of tomorrow, the busyness of today, or the criticism of yesterday. Simple. Brief. Easily overlooked, yet when seen properly these moments contain the fullness of heaven, the breath of joy, the scent of Calvary. He died so that I might live. And oh, I long to live. I want to be fully alive each passing minute, drinking in the fragrance of the air into my lungs, whether I am doing something impressive in the world’s eyes or living another habitual day hidden away in our suburban neighborhood. Life is life and it is in essence abundant and present in each temporal moment because of what He paid. It is here now because He is Immanuel, God with us.

And maybe this is the key that unlocks the answer to my question, “What is abundant life?” It is not to be found in the grandiosity of the superb but the commonness of the everyday, the regularity of each minute. It is hidden in the ordinariness of each hour because that is life! Life does not constitute the moments I will live, but rather the moments I have already lived. And I begin to ponder and get lost in the flashes of the many ordinary occurrences that I seem to pass by as common yet contain the palpitation of abundant life because He is there. The dimples of a smile, bubbles, and balloons. Milk mustaches and belly button tickles. Gargling morning cups of coffee and mouths wide open catching snowflakes. Jumping in mud puddles and slurping spaghetti. Fingerprints in play dough and lipstick stains on windows.

Fleeting moments. Hundreds upon hundreds each day. Yet each full of grace, another ephemeral reminder that He died that I might have LIFE. A transient encouragement to laugh, to see the joy in the now, the residue of His blood that shadows the moment with beauty.

And my mind drifts off to think of the precious moments of abundant life Mama and I have shared this past week. Spending rainy Sunday afternoons at Starbucks playing speed scrabble. Fixing Mama’s hair in a fancy updo one last time before chemotherapy. Passing hours laughing at quotes, reading children’s books, and smelling candles in our favorite doodad store. And yesterday embarking on a road trip, the hours flying by as we laughed at random town names, enjoyed the sunshine on a forecasted rainy day, finished each other sentences, completed our makeup parked at a gas station, and  talked about how God sounds like Tigger rather than Eeyore. We met up in Portland with our dear friends, another mother-daughter duo, enjoying the time talking and laughing, olive oil tasting, driving under double rainbows, and contemplating the many choices of toppings at frozen yogurt.

And I am in awe. Are these not moments of abundant life experienced in the midst of the difficult circumstances of cancer? In light of chemotherapy around the corner, it is comforting to know that the regularity of these normal happenstances will continue to come and go carrying with them the essence of abundant life. We don’t have to wait to experience life to the full until Mama has completed her treatment. No, we get to LIVE LIFE, abundant life, through it all, drinking in the sweet wine of the Cross each day, soaking in the moment of His presence here with us now. Mama is a woman who will choose nothing less than her portion offered her at the Cross—an inheritance of blissful joy, constant laughter, endless smiles, wild freedom…abundant life.

She has chosen not to accept this as a lot of warfare from the Enemy, but rather happily sing praise. Every pore in her skin is accustomed to absorbing the rich treasure each moment excretes. She is the walking illustration of 1 Peter 1:8, “even though you do not see him now, you believe in him and are filled with an inexpressible and glorious joy.”

I invite you to join me in following Mama’s example. Enjoy the ransom of the Cross today. Whatever that looks like (such as driving bear-footed, eating olives around each finger, watching feathers loosely float through the wind, etc.) drink in another day of His perfect grace, His presence in you transforming the normal into holy. He died that we might live. Let’s LIVE ABUNDANTLY.