I’ve been on a strange trip this year as I walked through chemo treatments for Hodgkin Lymphoma. Surrounded by the prayers of family and friends, I still had to navigate the way through a tunnel of unexpected side effects. Would I be able to have enough energy to do the dishes that day or put away laundry? Would my legs steady me, and would my stomach cooperate with the food I allotted it? Or could I concentrate on reading a single page out of a novel. Chemo brain is real. Each day was different as the enemy put his foot out to trip me with another ailment. Still, I reminded myself that these things I can handle, with His strength.
Until one day I woke up with the big side effect. A big one.
I had no voice. Literally no voice.
How could I not have a voice? Why I’ve been talking since I’ve been eighteen months. Before my second birthday my mother took me to the store, and I picked out everything I wanted for my two-year old celebration.
In college I minored in voice as I loved singing. Even in my later years I love visiting with friends, laughing and sharing life stories. All were voice related. Even going though chemo I knew I could talk to my husband, kids, or get on the phone and work through the hard parts of a day. But this year I couldn’t even sing Christmas carols. That hurt.
Still, the Lord, in his ultimate wisdom, allowed me to spend this time in the valley of quiet.
Quiet? What’s that? “Come on, Lord, I’m a communicator. A speaker, a writing coach.”
King David in the Old Testament asked God, “Why, Lord, do you stand far off? Why do you hide yourself in times of trouble?” David could speak but often lived in the valley of quiet, away from the nation he loved. Let’s face it, hiding out in a cave is not very sociable, even when he was with his men. But at the end of the day in his quiet valley, he concluded that even in his isolation God was with him.
What have I learned in the valley of quiet?
- Quiet calms my heart and forces me to listen more. God pushed my mute button and said, “Listen.
- Quiet reminds me I am not in control. I can’t explain my ailments or complain.
- Quiet gives me time to evaluate my life. I’ve been able to weed out unnecessary problems I worry about as I develop a good perspective on my life.
- Quiet reminds me my identity isn’t in what I say. Despite not being able to crack jokes, counsel others, encourage others and just plain socialize, I am still me. I don’t need my voice to prove who I am. I am created by the creator of the universe and loved by Him.
Maybe you are going through a valley of quiet. Be encouraged that you and I can still communicate with our heavenly father. Quiet can be a blessing.
Thank you, Jesus, for your comfort and love.
Thank you, dear family and friends, for helping me through this tough cancer journey. Your prayers, calls, emails, texts and meals have pulled me through the tunnel. And rest assured my voice is coming back…loud and clear.
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