Swallowing Tears

My mom has two days left of radiation. In two days, the battle of breast cancer will be mostly over. It seems like such a simple, easy end to such an involved process. A process that included multiple meetings with multiple doctors, research, two surgeries, sixteen weeks of chemotherapy, hair loss, appetite loss, exhausted days spent in bed, and radiation. After having experienced the ups and downs of this journey, to have worried and prayed through it, the culmination seems to come so quietly. It’s hard for me to grasp that all that’s left is recovery, and the fear in the back of my mind creeps forward.

What if I someday get a phone call and the cancer is back? Will there be hope for another go-round? My delicate heart can’t stand the thought of my family enduring this again, but my mind insists on going there. Not only does my mind insist on going there, it goes too far. I have not finished my education. I have not accomplished what I aspire to in a career. I have not been engaged. I have not been married. I have not birthed a child or struggled through my first parenting experiences. I have not bought a house or hosted a holiday meal. My fear is that I would fail to realize these ambitions without my mom. And if I did reach these goals, I certainly couldn’t celebrate without her.

It embarrasses me to admit these fears. As I reveal them on this page, I stifle my emotions because I know my God is almighty. He has overcome all of this, and He knows my heart. He knows exactly what I need and provides it to me with open hands and outstretched arms. He is my Great Comforter. He is also my strength. My endurance. He is my joy.

Philippians 4:6-7 “Don't fret or worry. Instead of worrying, pray. Let petitions and praises shape your worries into prayers, letting God know your concerns. Before you know it, a sense of God's wholeness, everything coming together for good, will come and settle you down. It's wonderful what happens when Christ displaces worry at the center of your life.” (The Message)