I have seldom had much luck when it comes to predicting the future. Due to this fact I have likewise suffered from an insatiable need to do so. While no one can "really"predict the future, there are those who seem to have the uncanny ability to make plans producing seamless follow through.
I am not one of those people. You know the expression "People make plans and God laughs?" I am almost certain it was inspired by me... In fact I am pretty sure God belly laughs and rolls on the celestial floors when I inform him how I think things should go.
My desire to be omniscient has yielded both great virtues and vices. From an early age I wanted to understand how someone was going to act, why they acted the way the did, and what could be done to promote or prevent various actions. I decided, in essence, I wanted to be a mind reader. As I grew older I learned the adult version of a mind reader was called a psychologist. Throughout the years I mastered twenty questions. There were very few strangers on planes who remained strangers. I often heard comments such as "I never have told anyone this before" or "I can't believe I am telling you all this." My intentions were honorable. I didn't seek to get inside the heads of others to manipulate them or misuse what they shared with me, I got inside their heads in order to protect my own heart. I believed if I could predict what was going to happen or how the people around me were going to act I would always have a strategy in place to keep myself safe, comfortable and assured. Up until my cancer diagnosis I pursued a degree in psychology. Sadly, and thankfully, I learned there isn't a science for predicting life, and there most certainly isn't a science for predicting human behavior.
Over the past ten years I have had several MRI scans. I quickly discovered after my first that I sincerely disliked someone looking inside my head. It made me feel incredibly vulnerable. I hated the feeling of being confined to perfect stillness while a total stranger attempted to determine whether I would live or die, or what my life would look like according to a series of snapshots from the inside of my head. After coming out on the other end of the cancer experience I determined I needed to change from the business of looking inside heads to seeking to see hearts.
This year I have had a bit of an impulse to revert to my initial vocation as a mind reader. I have had days of wanting to shake a crystal ball frantically at the heavens and demand of God why he was laughing at me. My anxieties over an unknowable future were compounded significantly this past week as I faced my annual checkup which included the much dreaded MRI scan.
There is nothing pleasant about the sensory experience of the MRI scan. If feels as though you have been put in a straight jacket and dropped into a submarine. You can feel the blood in your veins heat as the contrast pumps through them. You must hold your arms perfectly still and hope the IV is in a place where you can't feel the needle's dig for the entire hour.
As I was being strapped in, my head began to drown in all the uncertainties. However, as I was progressively submerged in the machine I was hit with a calm I had not experienced in months (no, I was not sedated) The forced stillness brought clarity and profound reminders. The scan quickly transformed from a mind reading session to the opportunity to take inventory of my heart. Predicting the future was of no consequence, because in those moments I was reminded I had been blessed with the exquisite beauty of a future, albeit an unknown one. I was reminded of the opportunities I had to share my heart with many and grateful for those shared pieces even when I had been unable to predict behaviors and had my heart broken. As I lay there, I was even struck with new ideas I had not previously considered. In perfect quiet, I realized God was not laughing at all.
Today I got the phone call informing me my scans were clear. It is with gratitude I approach my seventh year of remission, not as a mind reader but heart seeker.
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