As I've been slowly healing and sorting out my cancer experience in my mind, I've had many emotions and thoughts. Going through treatment didn't allow much time to process as we were focused on enduring the next hour, making the next appointment, meeting the present need.
 
 But once chemo ended, Stephen and I finally had the space to think about what had happened. Some of our first thoughts were, “Did that really happen? Did we just go through that for real?” 

Here are a few things I’ve been pondering. 

I remember thinking that if I could understand the relationship between suffering and the sovereignty of God, I would find peace. As cancer invaded my body, the usual explanations I’d heard for reconciling suffering with God’s character rang hollow.
 
 I began reading books on suffering and spent time going through the book of Job in the Bible—the man whose suffering seemed unmerited. I've wondered, “Is God actually good? How could he allow cancer if he was good? What character flaw or deficiency did I have that could only be rectified through experiencing cancer? If God would give his children cancer to teach them something, and I myself would never choose cancer for my child, was I a better parent than God? That can’t be possible. What am I supposed to be learning in all of this?”
 
 These questions and doubts are a normal response to the pain of suffering. What matters is the inclination of the heart. Would I hold these doubts and lean away from God or lean towards him? Only by God’s grace, have I once again leaned my heart in dependence on him and his character. 

While I don't have all the answers I want, I do have all the answers I need. 

I know God is good, both because he says he is, but more importantly because he showed me by giving his only Son to die in my place. The cross is empirical evidence of God's goodness. 

I know God is sovereign because I see the unfathomable design of creation that allows our universe to hold together. I read his Word and see his providential hand guiding human history to fulfill his prophecies. 

I still don’t quite know how his power and goodness work together in times of suffering, but I’m learning to settle my heart on the truths that have been revealed, trusting that God knows all mysteries and will make it all right in the end. 

The problem of evil and suffering is one I now approach with more humility and trembling. Having experienced both mental illness and physical illness, I’m learning to comfort those in pain with the reminder of God’s presence. 

God’s goodness and God’s sovereignty did not bring me much comfort in the throes of the crucible. While it may be different for others, for me, God’s never wavering presence was what I needed to endure. 

Suffering has a way of slowing down time. All of my responsibilities were put on hold and taken care of by dear friends, family, and my husband. Over the past year, I’ve watched the hours of the day (and often of the night) tick by slowly. I laid on my side, looking out my bedroom window at the leaves of the maple tree—the light slowly changing from early, new light to old, golden light of evening. 

I now experientially know that God has not promised me a life of ease. In fact, I can and should expect suffering. People have told me this for a long while, but I didn’t truly believe them. Now I do. 

I feel the effects of suffering in the ongoing neuropathy in my hands and feet. My body bears the scars of my surgery, port placement, and stoma site. I now spend hours of the day thinking about or being in the restroom. The social aspect of eating with others is a huge privilege I have to plan carefully for and sometimes give up. 

After all the emotional, spiritual, and physical torment, I’m so grateful to be back to my ordinary little life. I am forever changed by this experience, but I’m thankful to have a new normal to figure out.