Walk in the Woods

Nik Curfman 3/28/21 Nik Curfman 3/28/21

Journal: #240 Headed Back to Redding

When I arrived I thought my dad would be knee deep in cancer treatments. Turns out, the doctors continue to order tests. So we’ve waited, which is not awesome when the attacker is cancer.

It’s my last night in Columbia. I’ll be back in three weeks, but I am sad nonetheless. When I arrived I carried hope with me. As I head back to California that hope is still alive, but I feel guilty. My heart and spirit are ready for the journey west. Redding is my home. I miss it. I miss the slow traffic, chill culture, and the slow topped mountains. I’m looking forward to my solitary strolls in the forest and youthful friends. Redding is the place I grew into a man, a faithful God-loving man. If I could pack my parents in my bad I would.

When I arrived I thought my dad would be knee deep in cancer treatments. Turns out, the doctors continue to order tests. So we’ve waited, which is not awesome when the attacker is cancer. Aside from its general destructive of healthy cells, it also robs its prey of time. It robs us of hope and disrupts our lives, demanding attention better wasted on a beach or backyard swing. As previously stated, I still have as much hope as I did the day I arrived. It’s the waiting, the tests and more tests, and every little unanticipated turn. It’s a sort of exile where making plans seems premature, yet necessary. That’s what wears me down.

Hope and faith are essential to walk with the Lord, especially in moments such as these. Every step of the process is as it should be. I can’t change what has happened. I can make room for the Lord to be God and choose to believe it’s not all about me. Hope and future are gifts the Lord promises to us in the midst of every furnace. We aren’t alone struggling through it. The Father is at hand in every situation if we have faith to latch onto to Him. So, Lord, be with me as I travel back to Redding. Bless my steps and my words. Guide my heart into fertile fields of joy and peace. Heal my parents and love them. Shout your love and approval over their lives, and lift them upon the Rock of your grace.

Amen.

Nik Curfman 1/25/21 Nik Curfman 1/25/21

Journal: #186 Wearing My Heart Like A BackPack

For the foreseeable future, when I feel awash in sorrow, I will simply ask the Holy Spirit to “carry me.” And, she will. It’s that simple. I’m not alone, and I don’t have to carry the weight of life on my shoulders.

The next few months are about to get real. Today, I booked a one way flight back to Columbia, South Carolina, and I don’t know how long I’ll be there. My hope is 6-8 weeks. A friend is getting married on April 2nd, and I’d to be there for his wedding. Life may not afford me the option.

Life Happens

Last weekend, my dad was diagnosed with prostate cancer. Of all the foul words in the English language, these are two of the worst. I know my father will die one day, and there will be a medical reason. Yet, for some reason, prostate cancer seems an especially loathsome way to die.

I decided I want to be there for the start of his battle, hence the one-way flight. In this particular case, I’m glad I googled “prostate cancer.” Unless he’s into an advanced stage, we’ve got plenty of time to act. Statistically speaking, he should live at least another 5-10 years. I’ll take it.

I’ll take any time I’ve got left with my dad. The reality is every day is a gift. Moments like this help hone that sense.

How Do I Respond to Adversity

In the days to come, my dad is going to face some nasty medical treatments. He’s going to be weak and need people to love and service his needs. Knowing him, he won’t like feeling like a burden, and he’ll need to be reminded he’s no burden. He’s loved and this is what love looks like.

I am mostly hopeful about my dad prognosis. It seems like we caught the cancer early enough to take decisive action. Despite my optimism, I’ve had to think about life without my dad. The sadness I feel in those instances is overwhelming.

Stay Connected to the Lord

2020 taught me to stay connected to the Lord, and how to care for myself. In a way, I feel prepared for this. Today, the Holy Spirit gave me a picture to remember when the weight of life starts to shove me off balance. It’s her, wearing my heart like a backpack. That picture is life-affirming, light-hearted, and comical. I love it.

Thank God for that.