Wednesday, August 03, 2011

Clinging to the Rock

The far north is a place where things are pared down, taken to the lowest common denominators of life. Rock, water, sun, insects and wind. And of course, in the winter, snow and ice. It is a place where the word survival is never far from one's thoughts.

It was a marvel to me how the tiny delicate flowers of Baffin Island could survive. There is very little soil yet they spring up and cling to solid rock. Vibrant dwarf fireweed, saxifrage, anemones and the ever-present Arctic cotton. The tundra seemed to be in motion as they swayed in the constant wind, lifting their heads toward a far-away sun. We stepped around them, our heads bent in homage, our camera shutters clicking.

As I moved across that barren landscape I couldn't help but think of the barren landscape of cancer I have been wandering in. The similarities are stark. There isn't much to hang onto at times. The winds of fear and loss seem always in my face and the sun can seem oh so far away. But I stared at a bright yellow anemone and took heart. If this little one can survive in this, her desolate place, then so shall I in mine, by doing what she does season after season. Cling to the rock.

My Rock is more solid and everlasting than those slowly disintegrating across the tundra. My Rock speaks and comforts and holds my hand. My rock carries me when my knees buckle and cradles my head when I just need to cry. My rock hides me in its cleft and sets my feet on a firm foundation.

And when I "lift up my eyes to the hills," and ask, "Where does my help come from?" He answers - "My help comes from the Lord, Maker of heaven and earth. He will not let your foot slip, he who watches over you will not slumber ... The Lord watches over you, the Lord is your shade at your right hand; the sun will not harm you by day nor the moon by night. The Lord will keep you from all harm, he will watch over your life; the Lord will watch over your coming going both now and forevermore" (Psalm 121:1-8).

Chemotherapy begins tomorrow.


Carol J. Garvin said...

The Yukon has been my only experience of the north. A daughter lived there for a time and whenever I visited, I marvelled at the tiny plants that could survive in the harsh climate, particularly above the treeline. Clinging to the Rock is a wonderful analogy. He is indeed our strength in times of trouble, uncertainty and fear. Holding fast to Him provides such wonderful reassurance.

I've left a comment here before, although for some reason it didn't show up. I am a six year cancer survivor and wanted you to know I empathize with you in this difficult journey. Although you didn't get my comment, I've been praying for you, and will continue to pray, especially tomorrow. Tomorrow is my birthday... a day to celebrate all that God has helped me overcome, and a day to celebrate all that your life has been and will yet achieve.

Blessings to you.

Marcia said...

Thanks so much, Carol. Have a wonderful birthday tomorrow. :)

I lived in the Yukon for 12 years. The recent visit to Baffin Island brought back a lot of memories. :)

Blessings, Marcia