How in the world do I fit into a few mere paragraphs all the things that I am feeling?
How can I string together the right words in order to convey the feelings, the emotions, and thoughts that fill my weary mind, and yet leave enough room for you to join in the conversation here…and why is that important?
It’s important to express myself, but to communicate, really communicate…it goes both ways!
So here in this post I will be very candid with you.
And please forgive me for not keeping the promise that this blog would not turn into a blog about cancer…It is still about my walk with Jesus…but I am walking this particular path just now…so it must be for a reason.
This cancer is not all about me. It affects everyone whom I know, and anyone whom I may encounter. It affects the person standing in line behind me at the checkout, or seated at the table next to mine at the restaurant…If they can tell that I am sick…in chemo…then they are suddenly forced to think about it. They are momentarily faced with the possibility that it could be them instead.…to steal away even a moment of their peace in order to think about What if?...fills my heart with dread.
I remember speaking with my sister on the phone shortly after diagnosis…I will never forget how her voice got very low, and I caught a slight catch in it when she asked me what the lump felt like. It was fear that caused her to ask the question…and she wasn’t the last woman that I talked to who asked it…each one with the same catch in their voice…almost whispering the question as though I had an answer that they needed…but dreaded to hear. They were thinking “What if I get it?”
I can’t help but to play in my mind over and over the few scenarios in the past where I encountered a cancer patient…A neighbor, a woman in the hospital waiting room, or walking through Wal-mart…My eyes would catch hers for a moment…and I would wonder: What if it were me? The thought would not be allowed to linger for long inside my mind…It didn’t fit there…not at the time.
This week I plan to walk through yet another door leading into a new room once more.
The Lord has equipped this room with the essential tools that I will need.
Once the door closes I shall emerge without my crowning glory…I will cry, and probably laugh.
Losing my hair is not really about vanity…But more about identity.…The transition from just a simple everyday woman into the image of a cancer patient daunts me…But I must proceed forward…Always forward.
I have packed away the brushes and put away the hair dryer and curling iron, and shampoo, reminiscent of the days before the surgery when I tearfully packed away all my bras…forever.
At least these hair items are to be stored only temporarily.
This feels like my right to passage…Something that I can do to take some control over this crazy disease.
This disease has stolen from me…but it has not won. It will never be called MY cancer…it does not belong to me…I claim no ownership of it….and God never placed it in my body…so it is not a part of me!
So I will decide when the hair goes…I will decide what to wear to cover my head, and when not to cover my head…But I refuse to carry a banner that fills people with fear when they encounter me.
Instead I will carry the banner of a child of the Living God…A banner raised high that reminds all who see that we are ALIVE in CHRIST…and that God goes before us….And I am dedicating my head covering to the one who wears the crown of glory!
I will remember as I wear it, that this is just one more gift of grace.
The ‘Jerusalem’ style head covering
Please pray for me specifically this Wednesday...as I take the next step.
~Blessings & Love~
and remember, we are...