Tuesday, August 14, 2012

Letting Go

Do you remember a time when you were a child, and something scared you so badly that you ran to your father and grabbed hold as tight as you could, buried your head in his shoulder and did not let go?  Finally, after the scary thing was past, your father gently set you on the ground, and told you, “Shh, it’s OK. You’re going to be all right. It’s really, OK.”  That’s how I feel right now.  For the past seven months, I have held on tightly to the Lord, burying my head in His shoulder, afraid to look around or even breathe at times.  I felt safe and secure there. Admittedly, there were a few times when I relaxed that hold and allowed my imagination to wander. Fear would grab hold of me, and I would quickly duck my head and return to that safe place in His arms.  And now, the Lord has gently set me on the ground, and told me, “Shh, it’s OK. You’re going to be OK.”

He did it! Reading the pathology report today, it said: “Pre-Op Diagnosis—Left breast cancer.  Post-Op Diagnosis—None given.  No residual invasive carcinoma identified.”  God has used his power and the power of caring doctors and medicine to heal me. 

So, here I am, standing on my own wobbly legs, not very strong yet, but getting stronger day by day.  When God set me down, He placed me in a completely different place than I was seven months ago.  He has taught me precepts that have turned my world upside down.  I will never be the same person that I was before.  I’m still processing all of the changes, but they’re good, very good.

I still feel like that child, holding on tightly to my father’s hand, not veering very far away from him.  The truth of the matter is that I do not ever have to let go.

“Where can I go to escape Your Spirit? 
Where can I flee from Your presence? 
 If I go up to heaven, You are there; 
if I make my bed in Sheol, You are there. 
 If I live at the eastern horizon [or] settle at the western limits, even there Your hand will lead me; Your right hand will hold on to me. If I say, "Surely the darkness will hide me, 
and the light around me will be night" even the darkness is not dark to You. 
The night shines like the day; 
darkness and light are alike to You.”  Psalm 139:7-12  

Tuesday, August 7, 2012

Humbled and Cancer Free

It was difficult to focus.  I stared at my husband, willing my brain to comprehend what he was trying to tell me.  “The doctor did not have to take out your lymph nodes.  There was no cancer there.”  I remember finally allowing the good news to sink into my brain, and I cried.  This was the answer to our prayer.  As far as I was concerned, it was a miracle.  If I could have jumped up from the recovery room table to do a happy dance, I would have!  A warm joy flooded over my body as I slipped back into the sweet oblivion. Later that day, my husband, children and I grabbed hands and gave thanks to God.

It’s been six days since my surgery.  In spite of the annoying tubes coming out of my body, I am good—so good.  God did what he promised.  I feel so humbled.  The doctor called me on Friday with the confirmation of good news. “All the evasive cancer has been melted away. You are cancer free!”  Lord! That felt so wonderful to hear this amazing news.  After these last seven months—cancer free!  I meet with my oncologist a week from Tuesday.  She will go over the results more thoroughly planning the next step in my complete recovery.

Right now, I am trying to process all of this.  God has given me a reprieve.  What do I do with it?  How do I use this gift of life to give back to Him?  The one thing I know for sure is unlike the doctor who will eventually dismiss my case; God will never leave me to be on my own.  That’s a wonderful feeling.