Listening to God Within Me

"...as I stood staring at the screen of my husband's brain tears silently streamed down my cheeks. 

- Bridgit Muratore

Listening to God Within Me

Every two weeks my first husband and I boarded a plane to a clinical trial in Los Angeles.  He had undergone the maximum radiation for brain cancer and chemo wasn’t working.  The brain tumor had grown back and it was growing exactly where the neurosurgeon said it would.  That particular trip my parents, cousin, aunt, and uncle were meeting us in California and driving us back to Las Vegas.  Many things were different about that appointment.  It was the first appointment that wasn’t just the two of us, we met with the doctor again instead of only his nurse practitioner, and he ordered another brain scan; something we hadn’t done since the initial appointment.  The doctor invited our support team to join us in the imaging room.  We crammed inside and as I stood staring at the screen of my husband’s brain tears silently streamed down my cheeks.  The brave face I put on in front of my husband was crumbling as I looked at the scan and saw the trial was having no effect on the tumor.  Shortly afterwards our nurse practitioner asked me to join her in a small room where we discussed quality of life remaining and decided this would be our last trip to the trial.  Three squeezes of my hand was my husband’s way of saying “I Love You” without speaking.  Three squeezes as we walked hand in hand out of the clinical trial for the last time.  

During the weeks that followed, I continued working.  I drove to work each day, sat in the parking lot for a couple moments in preparation, and entered the building leaving my home life at the door.  At the end of the day, I cried myself home, pulled to the side of the road, wiped tears away, and prepared myself to enter the house leaving my work life at the door.  I did not have the capacity to manage both simultaneously therefore, I entered work completely present and entered my home completely present.  The weekend of our first year anniversary was the last time I was physically able to help my husband out of bed.  I walked with him in a wheelchair around the golf course talking about the beauty of fresh cut grass, the stillness of the trees, and the tranquility of the day when he reached up and squeezed my hand three times.  The following morning I decided it was time for a leave of absence from work.  I spent the next few weeks by his side and held his face in my hands while he took his final breath.  After his death, I was asked how I managed to handle the past year and my response was always the same; “It wasn’t me, it was God.”  My human was insignificant.  

There’s a saying that “God only gives us as much as we can handle” however at that time in my life I didn’t know I was capable of handling anything.  I was surviving and completely reliant on God and others to lead me.  I’ve grown to understand that the gifts residing in me are sometimes out of my awareness therefore I don’t always realize how capable I am.  Looking back, I had strength within me before my husband became ill that was enough to manage through his sickness and death yet I didn’t realize I possessed it.  My human had not yet experienced surviving such a horrible ordeal however through the yearlong battle with cancer, I was able to experience the strength that had always been with me.  

"God doesn't give us more than we can handle but I believe we can often handle a lot more than we think we can."

God doesn’t give us more than we can handle but I believe we can often handle a lot more than we think we can.  As I’ve learned to listen to the part of me that knows before my cognitive mind is aware I’ve learned that when faced with something new or difficult I can remind myself there may be strength and talents I possess that are not yet in my awareness.  I can lean into the knowing part of me and feel God’s supportive hands reminding me of my capabilities.  I have learned there is a part of me that knows and trusts God without hesitation even when I don’t believe it myself.  By learning to listen to my inner voice I have learned to listen to God within me.  Every now and then, I still receive three squeezes of my hand and each time I do I’m reminded of the strength and talents I possess.  I’m reminded that I am not alone and that there is a love much greater than me pushing me beyond my limitations.  With three squeezes of my hand I am reminded that I am loved.