Yesterday, in How To Run, I talked about finding your approach to difficulties. About how this is different from “keeping a good attitude”, which can be kind of a roller coaster. Approach is a strategy. That involves decisions.

One of the first decisions I had to make when my wife, Suzie, was diagnosed with breast cancer was how to approach it, my method, my plan for dealing with it. I had many options, some that people suggested and others that rattled through my own head.

Random Brain List:

  • give up
  • accept it
  • run away
  • blame God
  • check out
  • help out
  • focus on the kids
  • focus on my career
  • pray for God to heal her
  • ignore it
  • learn about it
  • fight it

This is not an all inclusive list but you get the idea. I prayed about it and thought about it. Then ideas began spinning in circles in my head.

Accept it

This option sounded like: “It’s all part of God’s plan. Into each life rain must fall. He knows best. Have faith. No one understands why these things happen.” I heard these platitudes from others. They drifted up from my memory.

It is a spiritual sounding version of fatalism. “When it’s your time, it’s your time. There’s nothing you can do.” In this case it was giving up without a fight. There were things we could do. I decided it was a lack of faith. Someday that time might come but not yet.

Run

This was never really an option for me but statistics show it is a sadly popular approach. My wife and kids needed me more than ever and I loved them too much for this.

Check Out

This was escapism like running but with alcohol, drugs or isolation. It is retreat, another form of giving up. You can imagine the internal discussion. Rather than listing every possibility, I’ll cut to the chase.

Fight

This would seem like a natural decision but it’s not. Fighting against an unseen enemy that you can’t touch is not entirely rational. Fighting the battle for someone else is impossible. Fighting against God is futile. The spiritual fatalists would claim you were committing a sin of pride or arrogance. Others would say that if you had enough faith she wouldn’t be sick. Others would assume you were unlucky or cursed because of something you did.

And it’s a big commitment. What if you can’t follow through? What if you fail? Will it be worse than never trying?

The Decision

In the end, I decided that any form of giving up was a cop out, akin to cowardice. This is not the case in every situation but this early on it felt like a lack of faith. It felt like giving up hope.

I also decided that God was infinitely more powerful than small me and there was really nothing I could do to prevent Him from taking her if He wanted. But I could possibly help. Suzie was undoubtedly worth any effort, as was my family.

So I prayed and laid out my thoughts to God, admitting that there was little I could do but committing everything I had to try.

The Result

I felt no doubt. I had no nagging questions. It was settled. This was how I would approach Suzie’s cancer.

I felt a huge relief. It quieted a thousand questions and worries. It steeled my courage. It gave me direction.

It was far better than a good attitude. My attitude would soar and crash. Good news would come and vaporize. But I knew my job. My approach was decided. My mission was set.

We would fight.

 

Photo by familymwr via Flickr
U.S. Army World Class Athlete Program boxer Spc. Samuel Vasquez focuses on Denmark Sgt. Carsten Sorensen during the 2010 CISM Military World Boxing Championships at Marine Corps Base Camp Lejeune, N.C.