Friends, April is going to be  B O N K E R S. 

My schedule is about to get all sorts of crazy so for April, I’m going to have to try something new and post on a weekly basis and not a daily one. I love writing. I love sharing. I love my sanity… And I never want writing to turn into pressure and something I don’t look forward to because it is an obligation. So, as I hold everything loosely, I will hold writing loosely, too.

And I don’t know about you, but March’s theme might be one of my favorites…one that I will now probably offer a permanent filter in which I look through.

And one more thing, I so appreciate you all. Thank you for reading. “See” you soon.

*Post 1093

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Life is Worth the Living :: 4/1/18 :: Post 207

Happy Easter. 

Just like with my birthday and Thanksgiving and Christmas, Easter felt very different this year. 

My perspective and view of the world has been so radically shaken up and transformed that nothing is as it was before. 

Up here in Breckenridge, Chris found us a sweet little church named Agape Outpost. It was a lovely family experience and a great message of not only choosing Christ, but walking out that choice every day. And how that can look. 1. Trade up – transfer ownership of my life to Him. 2. Quit trying to earn the Gift – He gives because He loves. 3. Gotta die to live – I want to know You in Your death so I can live. 4. Don’t quit till you get Home – Let Him lead me in my weary state and let Him lead me when I’m strong.

This last point is is the kicker for me. And one of the songs we sang this morning speaks to this exactly: 

Because He lives I can face tomorrow
Because He lives all fear is gone
Because He lives I know He holds the future 
And life is worth the living just because He lives

This is something I will cling to.

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Pink Straws :: 4/1/19 :: Post 566

I had a friend message me today. She reminded me of the importance of holding the tension between the hard and ugly with joy and gratitude. 

I am so grateful that I have walked this road with intention, presence, authenticity… I’m grateful I’ve learned how to hold the hard with the good… I’m grateful I have friends that remind me (in their special ways) to come back to that place. 

So today, while I had a really awful day physically (I did NOT feel well to an extra bad level) I can sit here tonight and hold the yuck with the gratitude of my army and who is in it. 

And the other really cool thing that this friend does for me… occasionally she will pick a pink straw to use in her cup for the day (she doesn’t even like the color pink) but because it’s pink she thinks of me and prays for me throughout the day. 

Sarah….oh how I love you. You made my day today. 

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Shower Chairs. A Pandemic. And an All-Too-Familiar Waiting :: 4/1/20 :: Post 856

I was getting ready this morning (for quarantine day #783  //actually #22//  at home) and I looked down at my bathroom counter. An odd thing to focus on, yes, but one that actually has some deep significance if you think about it. It occurred to me that over the course of the last couple of years, the things that take up space on my bathroom counter reflect much about the story being lived.

Prior to diagnosis, I had a plethora of hair products, a slew of makeup, a certain brand of deodorant and lotion, small, medium and large mirrors… In the shower sat shampoos and conditioners, razors and soaps of all kinds… In the drawers were hair tools and ties, nail polish and tampons. 

Then cancer hit and everything changed…. 

Drain logs and a pen sat on my counter for weeks following the most brutal surgery of my life. In the drawer were safety pins and a lanyard so I could pin those drains around my neck so I could take a shower. In the shower, sat a chair because I didn’t have the strength to even stand up for 10 minutes at a time. Hair products and tools remained but only for a little bit longer. Soon enough those were no longer needed and special shampoos for a bald head, a couple of wig caps and a new kind of moisturizer replaced them. The shower chair still necessary as chemo took the rest of what little energy I had. And in a few week’s time, I no longer needed razors or mascara, nail polish or 3 different sized mirrors; my get-ready routine, drastically different and drawing in eyebrows is really hard… 

Today, as I looked down at my bathroom counter, so much change was reflected. We moved houses as we’ve downsized and simplified our entire lives because of cancer. Because of cancer, I only have the bare minimum for hair and makeup as I strangely resent my new hair and don’t want to spend the time re-learning how to do it. And I have one mirror and I can count on one hand the makeup items that fill the space. I have new shampoo that is ‘cleaner’ and new soaps and lotions and deodorant that are supposed to be better for me because studies say that those details matter. And I no longer need feminine products as those parts were taken from me, too. 

While I may not need a shower chair anymore, what is present in my bathroom TODAY tells quite a story of where I’ve BEEN. I’m grateful to have made it through cancer treatment. I’m grateful cancer teaches me contentment in the quiet of the unknown. I’m grateful cancer offers tools that I am able to access now as we navigate a history-making pandemic. And I sit here tonight, having routinely gone to Rose today for them to take my blood so they can monitor me for recurrence, in a place of familiar uncertainty now folded into other not-so-familiar uncertainty…knowing I am going to be okay no matter the next new known.

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