Blessings Through Raindrops

I was sitting on the examination table wearing one of those sterile hospital gowns they give you looking at him across the room. He was nicely dressed, sitting cross-legged next to my husband when he looks at me and says, "you have cancer." In one moment my heart began to race and a huge lump formed in my throat. The tears began to fall as he proceeded to explain the most "aggressive" treatment options and research facts on prognosis. The doctor kept saying in his smooth Indian accent, "you understand, right?" But all I could do was nod my head and try and swallow what was now a HUGE lump in my throat.

He left the room and my husband I were alone. I was baffled. I couldn't even say the word. My mind was racing in a million directions, what stage was I in, what about Addison, if I died who would mother her? That was the the worst thought of them all. My girl, without me, me without her? My husband, without me? WHY God why? The tears just fell and fell as we made our way to the doctors office to discuss treatment further. He said, "full hysterectomy and another major surgery." I was only 3 weeks out from my first surgery! How can this be? I'm only 35. Why? No more children. Adding to my already mounted feeling of hurt and loss over not being able to have children thus far.

The next few weeks were some of the hardest weeks of my life. At first I didn't want to talk to anyone because of how wrecked I was. I was broken, scared, unsure, discouraged. I didn't want to hear those pat answers people always give, "I'm praying for you." Although I do appreciate and understand the power of prayer. I was mad. Too mad to hear it. Gently over time my sister's loving words of support eased my pain and anger. Only then did I open myself up to talk with other family members, including my poor mom who had been waiting days to talk to me about my results.

We proceeded to seek out council and got another oncologists opinion. We felt more comfortable with him and decided to go with him and his recommendations. Scared, but trusting God had the greater plan for my life, I prepped for my second surgery.

After weeks of waiting, tests, CAT scans, poke and prods, my doctor came to me 3 days after surgery with a smile on his face. He said "there is no cancer, we didn't find anything else." He was smiling and so was I. I cheered the best I could for a girl who was lying in a hospital bed. :)

There were no reasons why. Cancer does not discriminate, no one is exempt. It exists because of sin in our world. It has nothing to do with our gracious and generous God. He is always loving, forgiving, caring, & protective. Sometimes the rain falls and falls but He is always there. Always. He never changes. One song that helped me through my dark days was Steven Curtis Chapman's song Be Still And Know. I can't tell you how many times I meditated on this song (a practice encouraged by my loving brother) and cried and cried. Be still and know...He IS God. Meditation proved to be super helpful during my trial.

This blog is about thankfulness; giving God the glory for what He's done for me. Like my husband reminded our congregation yesterday, if we don't praise Him, the rocks will cry out!

Psalms 118:1: "Give thanks to The Lord, for He is good; For His lovingkindness is everlasting."

Psalms 30:11-12: "Thou hast turned for me my mourning into dancing; Thou hast loosed my sackcloth and girded me with gladness; That my soul may sing praise to Thee, and not be silent. O Lord my God, I will give thanks to thee forever."

My blessings have come through raindrops. I look around and see that God is good, so very good.




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