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6 Requirements of My Husband

It’s always been my hearts desire to have a family- to fall in love, get married and have children. I have spent years imagining what my husband would be like, what he would look like, what his career would be, his hobbies and personality traits. I have prayed for him, that the Lord be crafting together a man specially designed for me and that he be equipped with certain characteristics. It’s the prayer that all us women pray: “Lord, I pray that he is kind, thoughtful, smart and generous. I pray that he can always make me laugh and that we never run out of things to talk about. I pray that he is my best friend, travel buddy, and lights up at the thought of watching documentaries. Let him treat me with the utmost respect and love me as Christ loved the church. Allow him to be extra fine, chocolaty and attractive. In Jesus Name I pray, Amen.”

Breast Cancer has altered this prayer somewhat. I’m realizing just how amazing my husband would have to be to handle all of this cancer, sickle cell goodness. His tolerance for all things medical is a must, and his compassion level must be a 10. The following are a list of things that I am now praying for, criteria that my husband must meet.

He must not mind a deformed boob.

Bonus points if he actually prefers it! Does that exist? Anywho, in its current state my right breast is one large wound. It has no skin and is bloody and gross. I have to change my wound dressing everyday and while you can make out what it is, its’s not the most attractive breast you’ve ever seen. Once the wound has healed, I’ll be eligible for surgery, in which I will get both breast removed. So if he is a breast man, this is not going to go well for him. I need a man who doesn’t care if they’re dented, scared, or missing a nipple. I need a man who despite this will still look at me like the sexy vibrant and exciting women that I am. May he come home at night still craving the cleavage I have left!

He must be okay with hospitals.

My husband must be okay with the occasional hospital stay. Now, visiting a loved one in the hospital is very different than being a care provider and staying with someone in the hospital. My husband will find himself responsible for making sure I don’t send embarrassing text messages while on morphine, keeping track of all medications given, advocacy work (which may include telling a doctor off), delivering food cravings to said patient, selecting riveting TV movies to fall asleep to, be the main source of contact for our family, friends, and employers/employees, act as a nurse when they’re nowhere to be found, and attempt to sleep in semi comfortable recliner chairs while machines beep in your ear. I can’t control when I may be ill, so he must be okay with the possibility of spending a major holiday on the inside, or missing the Mavericks game which he bought tickets for months ago. Sigh. Now it’s, not all downhill! I typically have an unlimited supply of graham crackers while in the hospital, which I’m more than willing to provide you with. Just call me the graham cracker plug.

He must not be attached to hair.

Chemotherapy and radiation has taken my hair twice now. While it’s currently attempting to grow back now, I’m never certain how long that will last. I’m very bald and he is going to have to be okay with any hairstyle I bring to the table. Whether I’m bald, have short hair, choose a wig or am able to grow long locs, he will have to accept me for me. Now, as a black women I’m not asking for anything out of the ordinary as we stay changing our hairstyles. I just ask that he comes knowing that “no hair, don’t care” is always an option. Who knows, maybe we will be balddies together! Sexy.

He must have an understanding for the need to nap.

I don’t plan on ending my love affair with naps, despite our committed relationship. I. Must. Sleep. While I forsee having to take naps less as my healing progresses, I don’t anticipating living life without it. I take emense joy and pleasure in my Sabbath Hour everyday, and pray my husband won’t mind spending a little downtime with me. Do I like to turn up? Heck yes! I love me some adventure time! Just give me a heads up so I, like a toddler, can plan my nap accordingly and be ready to go!

He must be flexible with the idea of parenting.

I have always wanted children. I desire to experience pregnancy, birth, parenthood- the whole nine yards. I went to see a fertility doctor when I was first diagnosed with cancer. My doctor wanted me to know my fertility options being that chemo can cause infertility. I was told by the specialist that with cancer and sickle cell combined, I have little chance at getting pregnant. That even when I beat the cancer I should wait five years before getting pregnant. He suggested that I consider freezing my eggs for in vetro fertilization, a possible surrogate or adoption as possible avenues. I was crushed. Then I was reminded that God has the final say in this matter too. I didn’t freeze my eggs; it felt like a decision that I wanted to do with my husband. I’m open to God’s miracles, including adoption. My husband must understand this and be onboard for it. Our family could look unconventional, and he must love it all the same!

He must have faith,

This is of utmost importance to me. He is required to believe in my complete and total healing. I need him to remain unwavering in this, not only for me but for himself. This is for the benefit of our peace, joy and hope in the forward progression of our lives, marriage and family. I’ll need the occasional reminder of just who God is, when I’m in the thick of medical storms. He will too and I pray that our faith is such that we will be able to uplift and encourage each other in the Lord. He must be able to look at me and at any obstacles that come our way and say, “God is good and this has already been conquered.”

I don’t ask or expect perfection. How can I, as I’m not willing to attempt to be perfect myself? But I do ask the Lord to send me someone who sees me, and sees past all of the obstacles before me. I ask that he see my destiny and the miracles before me. I pray that he believes in me; believes I can do anything through Christ who strengthens me. I pray he sees the God in me, and falls madly in love with Him. I pray that all of my new cancer insecurities will mean nothing to him, and that he will respect and love me more because of them and not despite them. I pray for bravery and vulnerability for both of us. I pray that God is molding the perfect human just for me.

I can’t wait to meet this piece of awesomeness!

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Glancing Back

I hate the oncology office. It smells like chemotherapy and pain.

I’m currently waiting in the lobby of Texas Oncology, breathing through my mouth, so that I don’t smell the odor of illness. Okay, I’m not certain what illness smells like. Most likely I’m smelling a combination of hospital cleaners, hand sanitizers and latex gloves. Regardless, my mind associates the smell with all the crap that cancer brought. I’m taken back to chemo, nausea, muscle pain, soreness and radiation burns. I hate this smell. On rare occasion I’ll get a sniff of it while in the foyer of my apartment complex, or in the grocery store and immediately must move away from it. But right now, as I wait for the nurse to call me back, I must sit in it and flash back to the worst of the past year. I hate remembering.

Flashbacks are fickle.

These very same images that I hate to recall in the doctor’s office, are the very same images that come to mind during worship. I stretch my hands to the Father, close my eyes and meditate on the “red devil” coursing through my veins, and the days after where I lay in pain on the couch. I recall to memory sickle cell crisis’ in the hospital and crying from the mind numbing pain in the emergency room. I recall the smell again, and I smile, because I’m reminded of the healing that God has brought. I need to remember the bad that occurred in my life, so that I’m consistently aware of the good that is happening. I love remembering.

Where is the healthy balance between remembering and forgetting? How do we balance no longer living in the past and rejoicing in the present, while not forgetting just what the Lord has done?

And then I remembered our friends, the Israelites, and this particular scripture:

“Forget the former things;

do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing!

Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?

I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland.” -Isaiah 43:18-19 (NIV)

Now, I’ve heard this scripture before, understanding it as a call to put my past out of memory. I grew up thinking that there was something “healthy” about forgetting. We are told as children to forgive and FORGET. But as I wrestle with the memories of my cancer battle, I question this. So I look at this scripture a little closer and as I read it now, I’m noticing two important things. The first thing I noticed is the verses above this passage:

“This is what the Lord says—

he who made a way through the sea, a path through the mighty waters, who drew out the chariots and horses, the army and reinforcements together, and they lay there, never to rise again, extinguished, snuffed out like a wick:” -Isaiah 43:16-17 (NIV)

In the preface to telling us to forget the former things, the writer reminds us, pulls to memory, what the Lord has done in the past! The writer is saying, “Look, the dude who parted the red sea, who drew you out of the hands of your enemy- that guy has something to say.” He is defining God by what He has done for him in Israel’s past! This requires us to go back, and recall all of the mess we were in AND HOW the Lord delivered us from it. We look back to remember this, that we may remind ourselves of just who God is.

The second thing I noticed is the word “dwell” in vs 18. Remembering the past and dwelling in the past are two different things entirely. It’s not the casual glancing back that is dangerous, but the complete 180 turns we make to stare and meditate on our past. This is dwelling. The longer you stare in a direction, the more likely you are to walk in that direction. We move in the direction in which our feet and body are postured; surly if I’m facing towards an exit, I will walk in the direction of the exit. Surly if you position yourself to fixate on your past you will move toward it.

So, I encourage you to not turn around and dwell on your past. There is nothing in the past that is worth the repositioning of your body, and the slow backwards journey you will embark on. Your future, and the brightness and fullness thereof, is in front of you! Glance back. Occasionally turn only your head, ever so slightly over your shoulder that you may be reminded of the incredible road you have challenged. Do this only that you may remember what the Lord has done, and that it will propel you deeper into praise, worship and service. This is important, as Moses warned the Israelites in Deuteronomy 6:12 of forgetting, saying,

“Then take care lest you forget the Lord,

who brought you out of the land of Egypt,

out of the house of slavery.” (ESV)

I’ve often wondered if this is why the Israelites complained so much, and had such little faith during their journey. Time and time again, the Lord showed His mighty hand, providing for them in miraculous ways! The Lord parted the Red Sea, allowing them to escape from slavery and the wrath of Pharaoh (Exodus 14); He rained down manna from heaven that they may eat (Exodus 16); He provided water for the Israelites to drink, from a rock in the desert (Exodus 17)! And yet every time they approached a trial, complaining and unbelief overcame them. Maybe they didn’t glance back. Maybe they allowed themselves to forget the previous wonders and miracles that the Lord had done. Maybe they no longer remembered the pain of slavery and their prayers for freedom.

I don’t want to forget. i wont forget. I shall not. I’ll be sure to glance back to the past on occasion while resisting the fleshly urge to dwell on in.

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A Great Story

I’ve been waiting for an opportunity to coast. Only for a brief moment- not forever, not even beyond a year. Just a significant season of life where it wasn’t necessary to fight. Fight mentally, spiritually, physically or emotionally. I desperately crave the life my imagination is made of, a life devoid of all problems. A life where I felt secure and completely confident in what I was doing and its capability to launch me into my destiny. A life without illness. A life of simplicity.  Aww yes, simplicity, success, romance and Jesus (of course). All of this at my fingertips, without hard work or tears. You know, picture perfect happiness, just like I see on my Instagram feed. *insert wink*.  
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I would be in the thick of my very lucrative, highly respected and successful career, that allows for power heels and high waisted pencil skirts. I would have the feet and abs that allowed for power heels and high waisted pencil skirts. Natural abs, which required no effort on my part to develop for my metabolism was anointed by the Lord. I would have seamlessly fallen into this profession immediately after graduating from a college program that would have adequately prepared me for the workforce. A program that was fully paid for on account of my awesomeness. The man of my dreams would have relentlessly pursued me after accidentally bumping into me at a coffee house. He spilled his coffee and I dropped my muffin and the rest was history. One year later he proposed by candlelight after a carriage ride in the park. This is how I would tell the story at annual Christmas parties and to unwilling strangers on cruise ships. The screensaver on my phone is an Easter portrait of my perfect little family, highlighting our 3 perfect little girls. They cause just enough trouble to supply me humorous topics for happy hour but nothing that requires prayer. Perfect angels, that live in a perfect house, who’s perfect mom has found a perfect man while wearing the perfect high waisted skirt and power heels. 
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In this narrative, there is no growth. No authentic accomplishments. Nothing was learned. There is no winning because there is no fighting. There is no resolutions because there is no conflict. It’s predictable and boring. Therefore, this story sucks.  
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Everyone knows that in every great story there is conflict, a problem that must be solved. Conflict draws us deeper into a great book or movie, so much so that we make sequels with new problems to solve, new dramas and new challenges, just so our great stories may continue to be told and that we may celebrate new victories. Conflict also draws us deeper to God, as we grow increasingly aware of our humanity and need for help and refuge from life’s great trials. Conflict draws us closer to ourselves, as it forces us to examine who we are and what we are made of. It’s the conflict, the fall and failure, that makes for excellency! What would the bible be without the fall of Adam and Eve? Boring!  
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The “perfect” life would have produced the stagnation of my spirit. While my life would have been filled with “accomplishments”, my spirit would have had none. Like a muscle that has never been used, my spirit would have atrophied, and IN me nothing would have produced. No strength, courage, peace, integrity, love, patience, or power. There is no true progression or forward momentum in perfection. Do not waste your time daydreaming of a world that will produce IN you nothing. Accept your challenges. Face them head on. Smile at them. For you know the Lord is in the midst of writing a great story! This story doesn’t suck. This story is fantastic. 
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Savior

A little episode of PTSD kept me from falling asleep a couple nights ago. In these rare moments, my mind fixates on the idea that I am not going to be alright- my life will be taken from me and surly I will die. The root of these thoughts are deep, birthed out of my mother’s death in 2011. Since then, I have irrational thoughts of being afflicted, just as she was. While I have grown tremendously in this area, the thoughts sill come on rare occasion, and I’m stuck in anxiety.
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In the thick of the panic, I cried out to God for peace and calm, for it was internal anxiety I could not will myself out of. And so, I prayed and in the midst of tear soaked prayers, God reminded me that He was and is my salvation. He brought to memory various situations in which He has saved me; a testimony of His greatness. I kept the list of saving grace on repeat over and over in my head, until a calm fell over me, because certainly if He did it before, He’ll do it again. We often want to erase the bad from our memories, but I want to hold on to them just enough, so that they may operate as reminders of victory and my undefeated God. The very breath in my lungs serves as a reminder that I have survived the worst days of my life and that the Lord is a continual savior! So in the racing of my thoughts, as I rock back and forth in the thick of darkness, I will my mouth to speak out loud the things that the Lord has saved me from: 
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1. You saved me from Mental Breakdown
2. You saved me from Abusive Relationships
3. You saved me from Drunk Driving
4. You saved me from Cancer
5. You saved me from Sickle Cell Anemia
6. You saved me from Pulmonary Embolism
7. You saved me from Fatherlessness
8. You saved me Starvation and Homelessness
9. You saved me from Dangers Unseen
10. You saved me from ME
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What has the Lord saved you from? Reach back to your past and recall the moments in which you thought you would never make it, when it seemed that your mental stability or very life would end. You were at your breaking point and yet you are still here! Because you’ve been saved, and mercy has surrounded you! I encourage you to write them down, and keep them close. This list serves as your reminder that the Lord your Savior is a faithful rescuer.
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And surly if He’s done it before, He will do it again.
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Therefore, I’m free.
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An Atmosphere of Change

Change is on the horizon. I can feel it in my bones. It’s in the atmosphere, thick as molasses. Every decision I make could be the beginning of the pivoting moment I’m anticipating. It is looming over me like a thick and glorious cloud, causing me to question my tomorrow. If an elephant arrives at my doorstep today I would not be surprised! I know it’s coming- something unexpected, surprising, relieving, challenging and necessary for the forward progression of my destiny. It’s God ordained and Kingdom driven. It’s BIG.
It’s SCARY
It’s EXCITING.
What happens when your securities are stripped away from you, and you’re left with yourself and God? There are no plans or assumptions. You don’t know how you will pay rent next month, or where you will live. Where will your work and what will you do? Because you’re smack dab in the center of change.
Change: to make or become different.
I’m certain that this is stretching further than a change in my circumstances, but that the very center of my being is becoming different. He’s stretching me, molding me for a New Thing. New Wine.
New Wine must be placed into New Wine skins (Luke 5:38). New Wine as it ferments expands and needs fresh wine skins to allow for the stretching that will occur. Old wine skins would burst at the pressure caused by the new wine. So God prepares you for the stretching that’s to come- the stretching of your faith, finances, territory, business, heart, service- by replacing the old with the new. When replacement of the old wine skins happens surly we expect the old wine to be replaced with new wine as well- the New Thing.
I have no clue what the New Thing is or just how expansive it is. The Holy Spirit within you eludes  to the enormity of your destiny as your vision and dreams become more detailed, wild and vivid. You have an eternal knowing while not knowing anything at all. Your mind wrestled with your spirit because it can not comprehend. It knows nothing.
I HATE not knowing.
I’ve come to learn that not knowing is what’s best for me. In the past,  had I known the changes that were coming to me, I would have ran or made feeble attempts at trying to “fix” the situation, which would have ruined the blessings to come. I’ve noticed that every time change has come and I’m anticipating the New Thing, I’m placed in a position of blindness; I can’t see what’s ahead of me, I know nothing. I don’t know what to do.
But my Spirit knows and tugs me deeper into submission, obedience and faith in His instruction. He says, “Walk.”
So I’m required to walk in complete darkness into the New Thing, which will transform my being. For faith without works is dead (James 2:26). So, I work and it demands that I trust Him. It demands that I seek Him and Him only. For a blind man can attempt to find many things, but is only guaranteed to find the Lord. The blindness pulls me closer to Him. And for the change that is coming, I have a feeling that’s exactly what I need; to be closer to my Father who will guide me
So He strips me down as He prepares me for the New Thing that’s coming. And I’m simply left with this:
Him.
And then it occurs to me that He is quite enough.
Jewel
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Bonding With Purpose

I’m. Cancer. Free.

I completed the checklist. Chemo. Surgery. Radiation. My understanding was once that checklist was complete, once I was officially a cancer survivor in remission, that life would return back to “normal” and I would operate as I always had. My old life, my definition of normalcy, is what I coveted for 10 months. What I did not know, what nobody told me, is that cancer (and I imagine all life altering events) shatters normalcy, leaving you with fragmented bits of your old life. Like shattered glass, you can’t mend it back together, as some pieces are chipped, scratched and missing all together. Instead, you’re left with a few familiar pieces and the scars, wisdom and revelations that cancer left behind. Then it hits you: life as you knew it is over. You can’t go back to who you were despite how desperately you may have wanted to. There is a spiritual and emotional shift in the atmosphere, orchestrated by non other than God, and it requires every ounce of your attention.

I’m not the same. I never will be. There is something terrifying, yet so freeing about not recognizing yourself. There’s something even more surreal about realizing that you’re simply at the beginning of this transformation and that a month from now, a year from now, 5 years from now, you’ll continued to be shocked by who is looking back at you in the mirror.

Because Cancer.

Because you spent too many moments questioning death. You saw too many patients suffering more than you had. You wrestlers with God in your attempt to convict Him for what He has allowed. You can’t shake these things; the experiences bond to you like thick adhesive, becoming an extension of who you are. It’s like a heavy tumor, a sudden growth attached to your side, which causes you to now walk with a perminamt limp. I have a perminamt limp. A glorious limp that oddly enough I wouldn’t trade for the world.

The tumor’s name is Purpose. I’m so glad that she has found me.

Purpose will cause you to walk differently and therefore I no longer anticpaite going back to “normal”. Instead I’ve come to realize that further change is on the horizon and it will affect every facet of my life: relationships, career, vision. Changes that will further propel me into my new relationship with Purpose, are coming and have already arrived. I acknowledge that these changes are frightening as I’m not certain in which direction I am moving. But I’m certain in this: God is in control and I am His own possession.

So this is what I say to you loved ones: that which has not killed you has come to shed light on your kingdom purpose- to proclaim the excellence of God. And as you shift into this purpose, do not resist, attempting to glue back the pieces of your old life, but rather embrace the changes within and truly bond with your purpose.

“But you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people for his own possession, that you may proclaim the excellencies of him who called you out of darkness into his marvelous light.” -I Peter 2:9

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The Evolution of Why

One of our scholars has passed away from cancer just a few weeks ago. He was 16 years old. I instantly feel guilt.
When I receive news of someone passing away because of cancer, it affects me entirely differently now that I have it. Each time I hear of someone dying because of cancer, it forces me to dive deep within myself and question my exsistance. Especially when it’s a child that has been taken far too soon. In this journey I frequently ask myself “Why me?”
The meaning and root of that question has changed several times over the course of this journey, and I imagine will continue to transform and evolve until the day I’m heaven bound. My mind twirls around “Why?” frequently these days, taking on new meaning in each phase of this cancer journey. So far, my “whys” can be categorized into 4 stages:
1. Questioning Current Circumstances 

“Why me? Why did I have to get breast cancer?”
2. Questioning Past Pain
“Why me? Why has my burden been my health? Why has it been relentlessly attacked my whole life?”

3. Questioning Blessings: 
“Why me? Why has my journey been smoother than most? Why has this been “easy” in comparison to others whom I’ve gotten know along the way? My appetite is still intact (I’m gaining weight!), my energy is stable and I’ve been told time and time again, ‘You don’t look like you have cancer!'”

4. Questioning My Unique Purpose:
“Why me? Why do I get to live and they didn’t? Why have I been blessed with life? I’m not going to die. Why?”

I’m troubled that I don’t have the answer to that last question, yet incredibly greatful, honored and inspired by the fact that it’s mine to ask. It’s terrifying and humbling to know that the very thing that has ended someone’s life, is the very thing that’s brewing inside you. You realize that both you and the deceased have fought the exact same fight, possibly (and likely) equipped with the exact same weapons. I’m watching beautiful strong soldiers climb into the exact same wrestling ring that I’m to climb in and not returning. It feels like I’m carrying death with with me. Carrying it right in my breast.
Which is why that last question is the question of most importance, the most transforming, the one to meditate and pray upon. Lord, why have I been allowed to not only live, but thrive? Have you ever thought to ask God “why?”, not when it comes to your misfortunes but as it pertains to your blessings? It’s human nature to be an expert at asking the first type of “why me?” question- we must fight these thoughts of pitty, self loathing and resentment sometimes daily. Why did my children have to be born with disabilities? Why did my parents have to get a divorce? Why did my spouse cheat on me? Why did I get rapped? Why did my mom die when I was 25? Why was I born into poverty? We ask these questions relentlessly, but rarely ask “Why did I come through it? Why did I get this far in my life? Why did I persevere? Why did I live?”. What is the purpose behind you surviving your trials?
He has an answer. Because He’s sovereign. Because there’s no such thing as happenstance. Because it’s not by coincidence that I have breast cancer at 30 years old. Nor is by chance that you have lived through the hell you have gone through. Once you fully recognize and respect the fact that not everyone made it, you too will ask “why have I?”.
Why?
This is by design.
Some may say that I shouldn’t question it- that questioning God is wrong. The issue is not the questioning itself. In fact I urge you to forever be in pursuit of your “why” and to press into gratitude, thanksgiving and slefeshness in order to evolve your “why” from phase 1 to phase 4. Let your “why” grow from complaining to purposeful action. Afterall, you didn’t make it this far for nothing. I’m alive for a reason and it compels me to do something. I’m not certain of what that something is yet, but I know this: someone will be blessed and God will be glorified.
Why, against all odds, are you still here and how does this fit into your unique purpose?
I pray your “why” is forever evolving.

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Cancer

Breast Cancer
The day you find out you have breast cancer, you go and get a pedicure. An expensive pedicure. You pick out the most fabulous shade of pink and request an orange scrub and parifin wax. Because… cancer. Because you’re 30. And because you purchased two extremely cute bras just yesterday, and the irony hasn’t escaped you. Neither has the massive cry headache you’ve developed from crying, or the sudden lack in appetite. You’re also sitting present with the guilt of dragging those who love you through the pain; you hate that people weep for you.

You hate that you weep for yourself and have never wept for another survivor in your life. You’re ashamed for never seeing people as clearly as you do now, ashamed that it takes a diagnoses such as this to move you to earnest compassion. You’re appalled.

You laugh a little. Because “What?” You can’t fully process the crazy that has just been spoken and it truly does seem ridiculous. Because 30. Because you already have Sickle Cell Anemia Disease and how many more chronic disease can you possibly acquire?! So, you laugh because what else are you going to do? There are no more tears and your eyes are slightly raw from wiping them.

You tell your dog that you have cancer. He licks you in the mouth and looks away. You try again, this time providing him with more details, so that he may better understand and sympathize. You realize that you’re rehearsing just how you’re going to tell family, friends and loved ones. What’s the order of operations on news like the this? How much time should pass before you share? Surely someone has written a cancer etiquette book, a “how to tell family your boobs is failing” guidebook. You google it.

You obsess over which shoes to wear tomorrow to show off your pink breast cancer toes, although you have no intentions on telling anyone! You want the reminder for yourself, a privet constant message of survival and strength. (You have the urge to paint every wall in your home pink. ) After all how will you tell people? Who will you tell? How much pity will be reserved for you and how much of it can you possibly take? You purchase breast cancer warned magnets, bandannas and temporary tattoos. Seems like a requirement to own them.

The absurdity of it all surprisingly has you thankful to God. After all, when He does something of this magnitude, at this caliber of insanity, He clearly has a big amazing plan to match it. Nothing else makes sense. Nothing else rings truer than this fact: my life is about to be AWESOME. I’m destined for a life so blessed that it will be foolishly envied. Why? Because…cancer. Because James 1:2.

“Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.”

‭‭James‬ ‭1:2-4‬ ‭