Genetics, and Other Mysteries

Don’t you love that opening photo? You know I do! It’s there for two reasons – first, because it’s fun for me to brag (via pictures) on the beautiful family God blessed us with. I picked up that frame at a thrift store, and thought it was a little comical to display this big ole’ family that evolved because Dick and I fell in love. As you see, we have 2 daughters, 2 sons-in-love, and 10 grandchildren. (If you take a moment and count, you’ll only find 9 in this photo. That’s because #10 is still in Kelsey’s womb, about 2 months from joining us. But they are all represented in one way or another.)

For those of you who have children or grands, I’m sure you would agree on how miraculous it is that multiple kiddos can emerge from the same parents and be so very unique from each other! Our daughters demonstrated that to us from day 1, and now we see the beauty, talents, interests, and “one-of-a-kind-ness” in each and every grandchild. 

Dick and I have also had this conversation before: When God created man and woman, He really could have continued the lineage with identical men and women. “Here’s a man. Here’s a woman. This is what that looks like.” But instead, every person that has walked this earth has had their own genetic makeup. Think about that! Distinctive heights, weights, hair colors, eye colors, etc. As Mister Rogers would have said, “There is only one YOU!” 😀

Genetics can also be applied to the subject of animals. The Lord could have just made one prototype of each animal, but instead, His vast creativity opened the door for each creature to be part of an amazingly imaginative species. Instead of just a standard “dog”, we have poodles, beagles, golden retrievers, chihuahuas, and even komondors. (Look them up. It’s really a breed).  

Our daughter, Whitney, is a nurse. This is super helpful when you are tackling a journey like this, because she has a deeper knowledge of what’s going on in my body and can answer some of our questions, at least to some degree. (I will also say that while this is a blessing to Dick and I, it is probably a harder thing for Whitney – sometimes she can “know too much” and I’m sure her faith can be tested.) At the onset of my diagnosis, Whitney asked if I would have my genetics tested to see if that could be the answer to where this cancer ever came from. I was happy to do it, not really thinking of the ramifications. This test was given during my first lab appointment, and I was told that it could take 2-3 weeks to get the results back. I pretty much forgot about it. 

On the days I have labs drawn, another part of the process is to meet with my Oncologist or his Nurse Practitioner. This consultation is, for the most part, a check-up. How are you feeling, Mel? How are the side effects? Do you have any questions? I’ve learned that these times with my medical professionals, though valuable, are not filled with a lot of drama. They are just an opportunity to connect and update. During one particular time with the Nurse Practitioner, we were tying things up and she moved in a little closer to me saying, “Hey Mel, one more thing I need to cover with you.” Uh-oh. What’s this about? I could tell her demeanor softened as she reached into my file taking out a stack of stapled pages. “We got your genetic testing back, and I want to go over these results with you.” She then proceeded to share that, indeed, I have a Pathogenic Mutation (a gene variance that has a predisposition towards cancer) that was handed down through my lineage, probably on my dad’s side. Pressing pause here – my dad’s mother passed away from breast cancer when my father was 11 years old. As adults, my dad and all 3 of his brothers had cancer of one kind or another. So in one sense, I shouldn’t have been surprised. But I’d never considered that this gene would ever be passed down to me. 

Tears began to puddle in my eyes, and the NP moved in closer. She said, “You need to know that you did nothing wrong. You couldn’t have prevented this. It’s not your fault.” Of course, she was saying this because she could read my mind. I was gazing beyond her, thinking about our family – specifically our two daughters, my sister, and my brother – and the “ifs” of them possibly having this mutation. She also said, “Knowledge is power. If you had known about this gene years ago, there are probably choices you could have made that would have given a different scenario than you’re walking in now. Having your family aware of this is actually a good thing.”

Today as I consider what she said, I realize she was right. But in that moment, this was one more bit of troubling news I didn’t want to hear. Though I rationally knew this wasn’t my fault, somehow I was holding on to some of the blame. 

Dick and I headed out from TN Oncology and went to grab lunch at Chipotle. Sitting down to eat our Adobo Chicken Bowls, we were both a little quiet. Dick had had a slightly different reaction to the news we received, leaning more into the “knowledge is power” aspect, and also grateful for some kind of explanation as to where this disease ever came from. He was allowing me to process all of these details as we ate our meal (a wise husband I have). 

As I was taking bites, thinking/processing/a little praying, some specific verses came into my head. The Lord reminded me of Psalm 139:13, 15. He said, “Mel, I created your inmost being. I knit you together in your mother’s womb . . . your frame was not hidden from me when you were made in the secret place.”  

Here was our conversation beyond that:

God – “Today, you learned about a gene mutation in your DNA. I’ve known of that all along, from the day you were created. This was a surprise to you today. But it was not a surprise to me.”

Me – “You could have stopped it. I didn’t have to have that particular gene.”

God – “That’s true.”

(Long pause)

God – “I need you to rely on my wisdom and not yours. As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts. Can you surrender your will and limited knowledge of genetics to my plans?”

And of course, my answer to that was . . . and is, “Yes. I’ll do my best”. 

The Lord’s tender loving care washed over me in that restaurant, and from that moment I realized once again, that His ways (though, of course, we won’t be able to explain them all) have purpose. 

I remember hearing a preacher bring up the reality that when Jesus walked the earth, He didn’t heal everyone, He didn’t “right every wrong”. He did what His Father told Him to do (John 5:19). There is a master plan for each one of us that involves words we don’t always enjoy hearing – like mystery and suffering. Everything won’t be clearly explained or laid out for us in this life. That’s where a few other words – like hope, faith, trust, sovereignty, and providence – come in.  Our heavenly Father delights in the times when those words are the expression and posture of our hearts before Him.

Back to the main photo of this post . . . I glance back at it and find joy and security for two reasons. First, I see myself with lots of hair! Right now I have a few “wisps of hope”, as I call them. And someday soon, my locks will return. 👩🏻

But the main reason I not only smile but feel God’s intentionality in my life is because as I see each face of these men, women, boys, and girls, I’m reminded of their individuality in the Kingdom of God. If you’re reading this, you were also specifically and purposefully made. From the top of your head to the soles of your feet! No mistakes. And no matter your circumstances (which, by the way, the Lord is 100% aware of – down to the most minutiae detail), your life is being held by the One who knows the mysteries, the “why’s”, and the purposes. I love Ephesians 2:10 and I’m claiming it for myself, even in these days – “We are God’s workmanship [His own masterpiece, a work of art], created in Christ Jesus to do good works which God prepared in advance for us to do.” 

“God Moves in a Mysterious Way” is a lesser known hymn with a wonderful lyric. You may need to hear these beautiful words as I do:

God moves in a mysterious way,
His wonders to perform.
He plants his footsteps in the sea
And rides upon the storm.
In deep, unfathomable mines,
With never-failing skill,
He treasures up his bright designs
And works his sovereign will.

God’s purposes will ripen fast,
Unfolding every hour.
The bud may have a bitter taste,
But sweet will be the flower.
Blind unbelief is sure to err
And scan his work in vain.
God is his own interpreter,
And he will make it plain.

“God will only give you what you would have asked for if you knew everything he knows”
(Tim Keller)