As the basketball season progressed, so too did my treatment. And in the blink of an eye, I came face-to-face with my own mortality. I had to ask myself some difficult questions. Had I spent enough time with my children? Had I taught them the lessons they needed to know? Had I told my parents and my brother how much I loved them? Had I taken every opportunity to laugh with, make love with my husband? Had I led a life pleasing to my God?
Making a quick assessment of my life, I realized that there really isn't a lot that truly matters. My priorities became painfully clear. I had to face the hard truth that I had wasted time and energy on many things that really didn't matter. I wept in my solitude for opportunities never taken with friends and loved ones.
Initially, I felt powerless and out of control. Surrounded by people who loved me, I felt desperately alone. As ludicrous as it sounds today, I wasn't sure if I could live with the terrible fear I had of dying. I needed to come to grips with this disease called cancer. I was secure in the belief that my medical treatment was the best available, but I wrestled daily with the question of whether it would be enough. What I needed most was hope, and for me that hope came in a renewed relationship with God. During the first six months following my surgery, I voraciously read books on getting well by religious as well as secular authors. I listened to a variety of tapes, attended lectures, and sought counseling. It didn't matter if the author or speaker was a layperson or a religious. What I discovered was a recurring theme encouraging spiritual nurturing. In addition to the importance of following doctors' orders, healthy diet, stress reduction and appropriate exercise, the message of spiritual development repeatedly rang loud and clear.
| "I was secure in the belief that my medical treatment was the best available, but I wrestled daily with the question of whether it would be enough. What I needed most was hope, and for me that hope came in a renewed relationship with God." |
Turning to my Bible, I grasped for solace. I flipped through the pages, and as if written in boldfaced type, the word of Isaiah 41:10 leapt out at me. "Do not be afraid, for I am with you; stop being anxious and watchful, for I am your God. I give you strength, I bring you help. I uphold you with my victorious right hand."
A friend presented me with a set of tapes on healing. The primary message: Focus not on the disease but on God. Not always an easy task. My mind wandered endlessly to the state of my health and each time I encountered the resurgence of fear. But somewhere in those tapes a message appeared that was restated in the books and other tapes I began to pour through. "For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind." I began to realize and accept that without Him I am nothing. My past exercise to control my life and all the things going on about me had been an exercise in futility. I had to Let go and Let God.
I looked for God and He was there. I found Him in the faces of family, colleagues, friends, and teammates. I found Him in notes from strangers. I found Him in my local church on Sunday, but I also found Him in the healing services and prayer meetings of many denominations.
Breast cancer. From my experience I have learned what truly matters in life: my God, my family, my friends. I have learned not to focus so much on tomorrow that I miss the potential of today. I have rediscovered the little things I had begun to take for granted like the smell of cookies baking in the oven or the smell of lilacs blooming in the spring. I laugh a whole lot more. I am more patient with myself and with others. I am generous with hugs and "I love you's." And I have learned that I cannot always repay the countless acts of kindness on my behalf; I have learned to simply say "thank you."
My Story (continued)
