Until the Fog Lifts

Two years prior to my diagnosis, my wife was diagnosed with ovarian cancer, and a decade prior to that, my sister with uterine cancer.

This past April, my sister died, followed soon afterward by my wife—and the painful, difficult circumstances they both faced leading up to their deaths have traumatized my family and me. 

These recent losses confront me with numerous practical questions. Should I keep my faculty position or retire? If the latter, to where? (my kids and grandkids are scattered across the country). Should I continue my efforts to facilitate interdenominational ministry initiatives? 

Should I keep wearing my wedding ring? Should I consider remarriage? And would remarriage please my adult children, or would it displace our beloved “Mimi” from her rightful place as the family matriarch? 

I find clear answers to these questions strangely elusive—like trying to read a normally clear billboard through a fog. 

The losses also raise a question about whom I should turn to for help. 

I Peter 1:7 says, “casting all your anxiety upon Him, for He cares for you.” 

But lately, I’ve taken to reading the same verse with my own personal paraphrase: “casting all your anxiety upon them, because they care for you” (italics mine).

I hope this approach isn’t heretical—because I find it helpful. And maybe it’s theologically justifiable, since members of the body of Christ are said to be “in Him” (John 15:5, Colossians 2:10), other biblical passages encourage us to lean on other believers (Galatians 5:2), and still others teach us that ordinary people can be God’s mouthpieces via divine inspiration (II Peter 1:19-21). 

Since my wife’s passing, it’s been so hard to hear God’s guiding voice with simplicity and clarity. I want to make the fog evaporate as the mist does in the morning sunshine.

This desire for simplicity and clarity runs (slightly) against my scholarly side, as simplicity is not always prized by scholars in their respective fields of specialization. But I am a chemist—not a theologian—and my recent painful circumstances have driven me to crave simple answers to complex questions.  

Which brings me back to the they/Him dichotomy: Do I ask Him or them for guidance regarding my current circumstances? 

Yes, God gives wisdom liberally and without reproach (James 1:5-8). Although I have sought answers from both Father and friends—for now at least—I find an audible human voice easier to interpret than God’s still and quiet voice. And I am finding that the empathetic voices of a small set of believing friends are helping to bring the clarity I seek. 

That said, I trust the two voices are consistent, as I hope to hear His voice through theirs. But in my current fog, I don’t feel I can hear Him with any clarity without them. For now, I trust that leaning hard on my Christian brothers and sisters is a reliable way of guidance for me until His voice becomes clear again.