I heard the term, “designated survivor” at church today. I’m not sure what the speaker meant by it, but it sparked my imagination and seemed to tap me on the shoulder. So I’m putting pen to paper to see what happens. Like Tolkien’s “road that goes ever on and on,” I’m never quite sure where that will take me.
Yesterday I heard a cancer survivor speaking on NPR, and she really caught my attention. She talked of her surprise that when she was declared cancer-free everyone expected her to wear the pink headband, the pink tee shirt, and yes, the pink panties! to let the world know she was a “survivor”. She resisted doing so for two reasons:
- She was so much more than a cancer survivor.
- It gave the impression that death was really the enemy.
She told two stories. The first was of a woman who had been cancer-free for years but still told her diagnosis and treatment story to anyone who would listen (an ever-shrinking group of people).
The other was of a number of people she had known who never got the label “cancer survivor” because they supposedly lost their battle with death. But these were people whose diagnosis had given them permission to shed things from their lives that were unhealthy for them – relationships, jobs, accumulated possessions – and live their lives authentically. They made amends with people they had harmed and said farewell to the people they loved. As she spoke, I was reminded of my brother Bobby, who years ago “lost” his battle with cancer. The life he lived between his diagnosis and his death was nothing short of a masterpiece.
Which brings me back to the concept of “designated survivor”. What is our response when something unwelcome and unforeseen invades our comfortable lives? What does real survival look like? If we can see ourselves as designated by a loving Creator for a life we would never dare choose for ourselves, then pretty much anything can be a means to that end. Death, or loss, or suffering is not the ultimate enemy. The real enemy is the fear of these things that holds us back from daring to live a life that is worth living.
As I write this, I’m thinking of you, dear friends of mine. One of you is living daily with the limitations of Parkinson’s Disease. One has been desperately lonely ever since her divorce. One has a son who is trapped in addiction. Another’s nephew just took his own life. Some of you are struggling to make ends meet.
If you’re in pain as you read this (and, if we’re honest, really, who isn’t?), take heart. The God who has “determined the allotted periods and boundaries of your dwelling places” knows where you are. The suffering will come to an end, one way or the other. Until then, and even then, remember you were designated – before the world began – for not just survival, but for so much more.
seeing differently 