Yesterday I went for my 3-month port flush/labs draw. All of that went well. In the process I took a picture of the new bell they have for people who finish their chemo to ring! They still have the little old one that I rang too. While I waited, and waited for my nurse to call me I read several articles in the Elephants and Tea magazine (the elephant in the room is cancer. Tea is the relief conversation provides). It's a magazine written for and by cancer patients. I especially loved some of the poetry people submitted. One of them has a blog that I looked up. She is a 36 year old mom diagnosed with invasive breast cancer just months after her 4th child was born. She describes herself as, "a wife, a mother of four, and a follower of Jesus. Her blog is truly inspirational, and is called whenwatersrise.com - finding hope in deep waters. "When you pass through the waters, I will be with you." - Isaiah 43:2 I kind of wish I had known about it when I was in the thick of it all. But I did have the FB group that really helped me and was more personalized to my cancer type. But it wasn't faith oriented. But, anyway, I was really touched as I waited for my nurse to see all the different cancer patients and family members supporting them. They were of all different ages, stages and had all different types of cancer brought there by this huge "elephant" that had come into their lives. I love the staff at the cancer center. They are loving as well as professional. I'm glad I could stay here for my treatments. Today I enjoyed my appointment and all 4 of the people I had interaction with during it. They were again, loving as well as professional. My doctor has become a good friend. We always share the latest good camping spots or other adventures we are having. And then we take care of business. Today, my business was great! All of my labs came back at the highest, healthiest normal levels. The best they have ever been! Only bad (actually good) thing is that I have not had any "unintentional weight loss!" Ha, Ha! We had a good laugh over that one! But, I just have to say, it's been a journey and I'm so happy and feel so blessed to have had Jesus, and so many people who are his hands here on earth, to be with me as I passed through these deep waters. I could not have made it without them. God be thanked and praised!
"He reached down from on high and took hold of me; he drew me out of deep waters." Psalms 18:16
Here's one of her poems. They all come with reflections on her blog, but I didn't include that.
Called Forward By What I've Seen - Amy Johnson
I didn't realize I was keeping a record.
Not Intentionally. Not neatly.
But somewhere between biopsies and scan results, between school drop-offs and oncology appointments...
I was collecting evidence.
Like a photo album lying open on a table.
Every biopsy. Every PET scan. Every doctor's appointment.
If I flip back through those pages now, I see something I couldn't see then.
In those moments. I thought I was alone.
But I wasn't.
There was the nurse navigator who listened as I sobbed.
The counselor who gently reminded me of God's peace.
The Bible verse that appeared on the screen while I waited for the surgeon.
The ultrasound tech who sat beside me when I got my diagnosis--who looked me in the eyes, hugged me, and said. "You can do this. I went through it too. I'm here. And you will be too."
The neighbor who scooped up my kids so I could tell my husband the results without shouting over the noise.
The song that steadied me.
The friend who cleaned my entire house without being asked.
The one who took my kids to the aquarium the day of my surgery so they could laugh while I lay on an operating table.
My teenage niece showing up at 8 pm to pick up the scattered debris when I had nothing left to give.
When I look back. I see them everywhere.
Like confirmation.
Like fingerprints.
Like evidence.
It's like looking at an old photo and realizing someone you love was in the background all along--unnoticed at the time. Maybe even before you knew them. You have to squint to see it.
But once you do...it's unmistakable.
Those weren't random acts of kindness.
They were provision.
They were presence.
They were Jesus--showing up in the middle of what I thought would break me.
He didn't remove the pain.
He didn't take away the hard.
But he met me in it.
He lightened it.
Loosened its grip.
Shouldered the weight with me.
Another appointment. (Today.)
More scans in a couple of months.
More unknowns.
Uncertainty looms like a heavy blanket.
So many questions. So few answers.
The pages ahead are blank.
I don't know what they will hold.
But I don't need to.
Because I know this:
He will be there too.
As I look through the album of trials and life-altering moments, the pattern is clear. His fingerprints are everywhere.
Why would He be present in every page behind me...and absent from the ones ahead?
When we look at the heroes of our faith, we see a man after God's own heart come to the same conclusion.
"The Lord who delivered me from the paw of the lion and from the paw of the bear will deliver me from the hand of this Philistine." (1 Samuel 17:37)
David stepped forward into something terrifying--
not because he felt strong,
but because he had seen God be faithful before.
I think that's what looking back is for.
Not nostalgia.
Not replaying the past.
But gathering evidence.
So when I face what's ahead...
I don't walk in empty-handed.
Just like in every moment I thought I wouldn't survive--He was there.
And because of that, I am assured of His continued presence.
So I will turn the page.
Not because I'm unafraid--
but because I am not alone.
And one day, the final page won't be a scan or a diagnosis or a question.
It will be Him--
fully, finally--
leading me into a peace that no longer comes in glimpses...
but never ends.
