As I’ve immersed myself into the world of breast cancer, I’ve discovered that for as many women that have taken a journey on the BC train, there are just as many stories. We are snowflakes. None of us have an identical story to tell. We all lose. Some more than others. But the constant fear and coming-to-terms cycle, I believe, are very similar. I also think, for most of us, there is an instant compassion for others in the fight.

While this is not a community I would choose to be a part of, I will say it is such a loving and caring community. I’ve been feeling especially downcast this past week. And tired. Tired of limitations, scars, chemo, wondering how many more days I’ll have hair, thinking about cancer all. the. time… But, for example, riding the elevator back down from my appointment today, another woman who is further along in the journey sensed my “cloud” and wanted to make sure I new about the resources available that she’d been so helped by. We’d never met before, but we sure knew each other.

Sometimes I feel upbeat, strong, and ready to take what’s dished out. Other times, I just cry. I didn’t want this and there’s no way out but through. I’m comforted knowing that Jesus sits in it with me. Cries and mourns with me. I know He knows what it’s like to not want to drink from the cup. To want the cup to be taken away, but to want the will of God even more. I know that when the cup isn’t taken away, other, greater, purposeful things take place. I am hanging my hopes on this. What a waste this whole thing would be if I come out of this the exact same person I was when I began this wild ride.

In the meantime, my little snowflake saga continues this Friday. I was supposed to be starting my 10 day YogaFaith Immersion in which I would have come home a certified, faith based yoga instructor. I have been planning, studying, testing and anticipating this Immersion for a year. Instead of doing that, I will be sitting in “the chair”, getting my second treatment. But God keeps showing up. Just when I think the weight is too much, He shows up through people, music, a Still Small Voice. He keeps reminding me that “The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still.” (Exodus 14:14)

So that is what I am trying to do. Be still and know that He is God. Learn the lessons. Grow. Work on the inner “stuff” that needs cleansing. And I’ve been reading the Psalms. David gets it. He can question God and worship him all in the same song. He’s honest. He knows God is not afraid of honesty or a little raising of the voice, and quite frankly, I imagine prefers it over anything fake we have to offer. Psalm 13:2,3,5,6: How long must I struggle with anguish in my soul, with sorrow in my heart every day? How long will my enemy have the upper hand? Turn and answer me, O Lord my God! Restore the sparkle to my eyes or I will die… But I trust in your unfailing love. I will rejoice because you have rescued me. I will sing to the Lord because he is good to me. (Emphasis mine) This is a perfect depiction of how I know I will be rescued from cancer by the time chemo and radiation are behind me, but the 24 hours I’m currently standing in are HARD. Thank God this is temporary and that his love is unfailing and that he is good to me. All the time.