Battle of the Big C

We were having family dinner last night when I asked the question.

"Anybody know what tomorrow is?" Four pairs of eyes looked at me with complete blankness.

"Tomorrow is my 4th anniversary." The kids immediately panicked and turned their attention to Vern, who shook his head and reminded them that my birthday wasn't until the 29th.

"I'm cancer free tomorrow for 4 years." They all sat back in relief. Oh. THAT. And without taking a moment to pause or consider, they all dug back into their suppers while Grace took her turn in reading from Keys for Kids and Little House on the Prairie.

I sat back, soaking in the moment. In 2012, we fought and won a battle against breast cancer. We witnessed with our own eyes The Lord's sovereign  hand upon our family.  We felt first-hand the support of those who love us and who pitched in to help take care of us during that journey. And here at the dinner table 4 years later, I realized that my guys--rather than turn that memory into one that brought fear and anxiety--had only turned that memory into one of victory and peace and security about the way The Lord Jesus feels about them. Oh, be still my joyous heart and praise be to GOD. 

But I was still jealous of them. Yes, I am a 4 year cancer survivor. But if I am going to be transparent with you, I have got to tell you that I still get anxious and insecure with every mammogram and doctor's visit. The memory of 2012 does not always leave me feeling victorious and admittedly, sometimes I can't wait for October the National Breast Cancer Awareness month to be over with because I don't want to be reminded that I battled the Big C.

Or do I?

The night of October 12, 2012 after kids had gone to bed, Vern began to gently pull the tape off my skin that had protected the marks to help line up the equipment that had drilled radiation into my body for 7 weeks. Tears streamed down my cheeks. Yes, those pieces of tape had been on my skin for 2 months and it hurt to pull them off. But with every one of those that came off my body, I could feel myself getting one more step closer to freedom. One step closer to redemption. One more step closer to understanding how deep, how wide, how long, how GREAT is the Father's love for me.

I had been in a really bad situation. And He rescued me. Not because I deserved it. But just because He loved me and wanted to show me that love. He knew it would bring me courage and hope despite these moments of fear. Moments of anxiety. Moments of defeat.

And I need to remember that I had cancer and I survived. That I was once dead and now I am alive. That once I lived in fear of what might happen, and now I am courageous.

And that He has always loved me even though I may never become all that He made me to be.

So this morning, I bought 400 pieces of candy so that everyone I meet today can share in the sweet memory of my cancer journey with me. Because He did for me these great and awesome works my eyes have seen (Deuteronomy 10:21). I don't want to forget how it changed me. I pray that you don't forget those times when He has changed you.