A couple of days ago, I wrote about the win-win. There is more to this part of the story, though. I had said that being just a blink away from seeing Jesus’s face can’t not change a person but then I left it hanging with “how.” 

To be clear, in my case this wasn’t a near-death experience. It wasn’t a moment where my life flashed before my eyes. It wasn’t a dream and then I woke up. It wasn’t that my body was on the brink of taking its last breath. Don’t get me wrong, I was at my lowest of lows, but I wasn’t on the literal edge of death. *That* place is different. And of course that place also changes a person. But I think the place I am specifically talking about was a place of surrender. Voluntary surrender. Chosen. Optional. Not required. That is what changed me. 

Turns out, even at my lowest of lows, I still had a choice. I had the option to hold tightly to my life. To strain for control. To fear letting go. To loathe the darkness of death even though it’s simply a blink before the light of eternity. To fret and struggle. I also had the option to skim the surface. To escape. To give up. To disappear. To lock everything hard out (PS: to lock out the hard, also means to lock out the significance). And I even had the option to grow resentful and hateful, spiteful and sullen. 

But as I laid there that one night, (I can easily find that memory as if it was last night), looking up at my ceiling, feeling beyond-comprehension-sick and my entire being waned, I closed my eyes and thought to myself, “when I open my eyes, I’ll either see Jesus or I’ll see my ceiling…” [and before opening my eyes, I took in a breath, one that felt deeper than any breath I’d ever taken, one that breathed in everything that I could have held on to…and in the seconds of holding all of that, I decided; I made my choice. It was then that I tangibly felt my full, chosen surrender because just on the other side of that weighted exhale, I knew I was going to open my eyes and no matter what I saw – Jesus or my ceiling – I was free.] “…I see Jesus, and that means the relief of heaven is mine. I see my ceiling, and that means I have more time here, time that is purposed (because I’d be in heaven if it wasn’t), time that only has to be lived in these 5 minutes. And since Jesus is still coming for me and the relief of heaven still exists (maybe even in the next breath) I will always win.”

That 15 seconds of eyes-closed-darkness changed me. I no longer fear the darkness of closing my eyes for the last time…because I know what happens when I open them. 

*Post 987

4.3 :: 12/13/17 :: Post 107

Today has been pretty terrible. 

And I’m discouraged. 

And I’m tired. 

And I hate this. 

And that’s all I have the energy for tonight.

Grateful :: 12/13/18 :: Post 457

Grateful. Even in the hard of cancer, I am grateful.

Most certainly on my list is my friend Laura. Her light is beautiful. Her soul, precious. Her friendship…..vital.

Living Changed Head to Toe Day 13 :: 12/13/19 :: Post 821

Everything is harder right now. I get tired putting on mascara. I struggle putting on shoes. It’s hard getting in and out of the car. All of these things will lessen, though, as recovery continues, because these are mostly due to a tired, recovering and worn out body in a constricting body suit. 

There are some things, though, that come with the fact that my body has been through ten surgeries. My range of motion is severely hindered as a permanent result….so much so that I couldn’t take off my own shirt tonight without a huge fight with it. And I started crying because it was so hard to do. (I *may* have a hair triggered emotional response right now……..) And I can barely reach my own head to put my hair in a ponytail. And getting something on the top shelf in the kitchen is just impossible. And reaching for an itch across my body or on my back…. And you know the feeling of a really good stretch? Sadly, I can’t do that without hurting myself really bad. 

Living changed, head to toe, Day 13 – my arms and their range of motion. There is so much that I am hindered from doing normally like I once was able to do before cancer. More things they don’t prepare you for… And I have had to change the way I do a lot of things because of this. I actually have to choose different shirts now so that I know I can dress myself (with tonight’s shirt as an exception…I’ll have to reconsider wearing that one again). I have to take a break while doing my hair because my arms and shoulders get too tired from the strain. And good thing I have a 6’7” husband and a 6’1” daughter who can reach for high things…I’m kinda up a creek when they aren’t around, though. As far as itches go, door frames are my best friend – it’s all about being resourceful. And I just get half-satisfaction from half-stretches (and dreadfully painful reminders when I forget and go for the full stretch). So yeah, I have to live differently all of the time. But… I have hair to put in a ponytail! And something that my arms can do…(range of motion or not)…is wrap around my best people. So, I’ll celebrate those little things even if I have to struggle with much.