“Those who love God are the ones chosen for His purpose."
~ Romans 8:28
I hate this! There I said it; I just want my old life
back.
Chemotherapy is not
a word people want to hear; certainly never something they want to experience. But, for those of us with stage IV breast cancer,
we often don't have a choice.
Today I’m
getting my first chemo treatment. I’m
terrified. How will the chemicals affect
me? Will I get sick? How will I handle the pain in my joints? Will I lose my beautiful curls?
My journey
started when a routine exam revealed a lump on my right breast. The cyst ended up being benign, but underneath
the cyst was a malignant tumor. Ugh!
Before cancer reared its ugly head in my life, I was an energetic
woman. At 57, I’m a trauma nurse in a
very busy ER. When my adult children
finished college and moved out, my husband of 34 years and I moved to south
Florida to enjoy kayaking, cycling, surfing and scuba diving. I’ve always been active.
Now I'm lucky if I’ll have enough energy to go to the
grocery store. “Why me?” “Why can’t I ever catch a break?” “Why is the
universe still punishing me for giving Janie those chocolate-covered beetles
bugs back in Kindergarten?”
I suppose it’s natural to get upset, frustrated, even angry.
I keep looking for someone to blame (the
genes of my parents, a God who’s apparently forgotten me, the incompetent cab
driver, the abysmal weather, anything!).
Despite the absurdity, I feel myself getting more agitated. Perversely, I even start hoping things go
horribly wrong, so I can justify this feeling of utter futility.
Then I remember all the women I’ve known who lost their
battle with the big ‘C.” But I’m still
alive; I should be ashamed to even THINK this way . . . but I can't help it. “Please
God,” I pray,” Come closer now with
Your comfort and peace. I need You! I need Your care and attention. Please be
with me in the journey and where it’s Your will, bring healing to my body.”
Just as Rachel was about to encase herself within a cocoon
dripping with self-pity, a little bald headed girl no older than 6, snuck up
behind her. With a warm embrace she
handed Rachel a Hershey’s Kiss. She said
with a friendly grin, “My Mom says we have to keep smiling. Don’t forget, God loves you.”
Out of the mouth of babes!
He heard her prayer and answered by placing an angel in her
path at precisely the right time. It was
a feel-sorry-for-herself kind of moment; Rachel just venting and being
difficult. So she turned her frown
upside down by making a list of all the things that don’t suck about stupid
cancer.
Lord Jesus, even when we seem to have
nothing but regrets; horrible recollections of our poor choices, sins,
mistakes, and failures, we're grateful for a God who repairs things, makes things
better, transforms them. Thank you. Amen
