Hello, new week. I don't know about you, but I never consider the first week of the year, the first week of the new year. Instead I look at the first week as a transition period...a transition from all the parties and fun to buckling down and getting things in order.
Hello new challenges. This week is already stocked with interesting challenges and I would lying if I did not wish I could just sleep through it all. While part of me would like to chant "What doesn't kill you makes you stronger", instead, I will cling to slivers of hope to get me through the hiccups of the week.
Hello to new routines. With a new year comes new routines. This year I am doing my best to stay grounded and not become over ambitious as in the years past.
Hello to making list and getting things done. My to-do list is about mile long, but I am determined to not let it undo me, but rather conquer it step by step.
Last, but not least, Hello to you! It's been way too long! Let's not let that much time pass between us again.
Hello Monday, when what I would really like to say is good riddance, see you later, let's skip right over you and start on Tuesday.
Hello to a new week and praying this one's better...the few weeks, especially last week, have been extremely difficult. My faith and trust in God is been stretched in crazy, unpredictable ways. And I must say, if it weren't for my friends and church family I do not know how I would have made it through.
Hello to October which usually means cooler weather, dusting the cobwebs off your boots and chunky sweaters, that is unless you live in southern California...ugh!
Hello to rest...My body has been overrun and overwrought by stress and anxiety these past few weeks. And so this week I have decided to make a conscience decision to make it a point to rest, even it's just for 15 minutes...just a time decompress and spend some time in uninterrupted prayer.
Hello to finishing up some books that almost finished reading...There is nothing like finishing a book and immediately starting something new.
Hello to writing again. It's been too long. And it is cathartic for troubled my soul.
My fourth of July started out like any other....I slept in, hung out with the kids, made my first ice box cake, loaded everyone into the minivan and headed over to our friends house to swim. The air was hot, the pool was refreshing, the food was delicious. The rest of the afternoon we alternated between the pool and stuffing our faces with hot dogs, chips and fruit. And I wish I could say we ended the day with an amazing fireworks show, but life does not always go as planned...as I have learned this past year. Instead, I ended the night in the emergency room waiting to hear if my great aunt had broken her hip.
The frailty of life slapped me in the face as I drove home and the tears began to roll down my face in waves. I cried and I cried. I cried for my aunt, lying in the hospital bed and full of fear. I cried for my mom and the last year that I spent surviving instead of thriving. And I cried for the unknown future.
Let me rewind back, to last June. Life was relatively good...We had found a new church family, bills were being paid, the kids were healthy, I was in the midst of grad school and then with one phone call everything began to slowly crash down.
I do not remember exactly what was said or who it was on the other end off the line. All I remember is this: sitting in my best friend's VW, in the parking lot of Roscoe's and the words -- "It's breast cancer and its stage four"-- finding their way to my ear. And at that moment, I am in complete and utter control. My voice is even keeled, I am "ok". But minutes later when I hear my husbands voice on the other side of the phone all the fear and the sadness that has been building up inside of me spews out in one giant gut wrenching sob escapes my lips. These sobs come one after another, over and over again like ocean waves. While the words breast cancer, stage four, and terminal flew through my mind like a runaway teleprompter.
That ordinary June day was just the beginning catalyst of a very turbulent, trying year. And despite all the trials that followed, my mom's cancer is the one that has stunted me the most. If you are at all familiar with cancer, stage four is the worst and basically means terminal. Even now, a year later, saying, or this case typing, the word "terminal" sends a chill down my spine...it just doesn't seem real. I see my mom and she looks "normal", maybe a little more slimmed down, but otherwise the same. When I watch her chase my kids around I cannot believe that inside her body a war is going on. But then there are those moments when she winces in pain, or struggles to catch her breath that the reality of her diagnosis slaps me in the face.
Cancer is our new reality. It dictates everything we do. It has infiltrated almost every aspect our lives. Cancer does not just infect one person, it infects the whole family. Cancer is our new normal.
Cancer took my words, but I am fighting back now and taking my words back. So, in an effort to kick cancers butt, I am writing again. Cancer is not going to win.
These past few weeks have been filled with tears, aguish, laughter, worry, dread, heartbreak, disappointment, and more tears. My life has been altered. Life long dreams have buried. Old friendships have been renewed. Mortality has slapped us in the face. And though there have been many times when I just wanted to throw my hands up in the air and yell "I'm Done!" God would not let me go. When I fought HIm, He only fought hard to wrap His arms of love around me. And on the days when it felt like I had a rain cloud over my head would never cease, He called to remembrance this verse...
being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus...Philippians 1:6