At that age, I thought that would never happen to me. As I grew older, I feared that would be me. When I turned 36 I was horrified it would be me; thinking that would be the start of my impending doom. My death sentence. The year I would be diagnosed with breast cancer. But that birthday came and went without a diagnosis, and I almost felt victorious, like I had made it. I had beat this thing that had attacked so many women in my family. I was the lucky one.
Fast forward two years later. It was a day no different than any other, really. Just doing my thing getting ready for the day, sudsing up in the shower while I was talking to my husband. And there it was. It was big, really big. The kind of big you know you can't ignore. Because I'm good for that, sometimes, ignoring things I should see a doctor about. Mom used to do that too, which I never really understood, until now. You just get...tired...tired of the tests, the fear, the whole roller-coaster. No thank you, I'd like to get off the ride now, please. But I didn't ignore this, I couldn't. But I think part of me already knew even then.
There's a monster inside me. A monster whose only goal is to grow, consume, and kill. I kept praying for a miracle when I was waiting for the test results. Praying it would skip me. Praying it would just be another tumor not doin a darn thing, just chillin and making bras uncomfortable like my other one. Praying for anything other than cancer. When the results came in, I thought I didn't get my miracle. God has passed me up for that one. No miracle for you, not today kid.
After the dust settles, the tears dry up, the heart slows to a steady beat, and His words start to flow into my heart, I know now it's not that I didn't get my miracle. That's just not the miracle He has in store for me. He has other plans. His plans. Not mine. Which is probably a good thing, because in this relationship, He's the smart one. Not me. Left to my own devices I'll screw everything up, every time. So it's not that I didn't get a miracle, or that I won't get one, I just didn't get that one. In this ride I never wanted to take, He has plans, and they are good plans. He has blessings in store. He has good works yet to be done. This is just the beginning of the ride, and I have no doubt that it will be a hard one, but it will be a good one. Because that's the path he set me on, and God doesn't make mistakes.
This comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteDoesn’t make mistakes, indeed. Not in choosing to make you (when there were an infinite number of other choices, and yet He deliberately chose you! - Ephesians 2:10 (NLT)). And not in allowing this in your life. Words, and certainly words in the form of answers or platitudes, seem cheap and hollow at times like this. That is, unless they are joined together as a genuine promise to walk alongside you and S and K and A (names i know, but aren't mine to share in this kind of space) and pray first and most, but also do when there’s even a remote chance that doing can help. i plan to be a reader here as often as you have the prompting and courage to go through with typing the words. The ones in this post are honest and beautiful and haunting and real. Godspeed on this journey, sister. With Him and at His speed. Not easy, for dang sure. But worth it because He’s worth it and will not take His hand or eye off you and you all for even a fraction of a second. Walking with, sister. Love you, and you all, so very much. (mark robb)
ReplyDeleteJob's friends were awesome before they spoke. They just sat there with him in support. Job 2:13 - 3:1 "they sat down on the ground with him for seven days and seven nights with no one speaking a word to him, for they saw that his pain was very great." Cheryl and I seek to be like that. No sage words, no interpretation of what Jesus is doing, just to sit with you and the family (in spirit) quietly praying in our hearts because we believe that Jesus will never forsake or leave you. Lord hear our prayers. Jim and Cheryl Dinnan.
ReplyDelete