Five Minute Friday: Still

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Gentle Reader,

Hanging out with Kate and the gang. We are: still.

Go.

I get by with a little help from my friends.

And God.

Definitely God.

The two came together today in a sweet way. I was feeling discouraged and weary after my appointment with the surgical oncologist yesterday. He said that I need to have a biopsy, which means more waiting. I’m still going to have surgery, but the biopsy will determine what kind of surgery. As in, whether they will remove just the tumor or remove up to half of my liver.

Yeah.

I wanted so much to come out of the appointment with an action plan. I wanted dates and timelines. I wanted the operating theater booked.

Instead I’m waiting for a phone call from another doctor who’ll do the biopsy. And then I’ll wait for results. And then I’ll wait for the surgery.

This road has been so long. I made a decision months ago to trust God in this process, and I’m not wavering in that. I know He has a good plan for me. I know He’ll take care of me. But I’m tired. I’m ready to move on.

I prayed today (while in the staff bathroom, as one does when at work) and asked God to give me strength. I asked Him to lift me out of my discouragement and enable me to see joy. I asked Him to help me choose all that is positive and good.

When I got back to my desk, I found a little present and a lovely note from my coworker. Chocolate because it makes everything better and bubbles to ease the anxiety.

And God whispered into my heart, “I’m still here.”

Stop.

I am a wealthy woman. I really am. Everyone in my life has been incredibly supportive during this journey, and especially the last few weeks, the weeks of MRIs and oncologists. I’ve been cheered with inside jokes, heartened by good conversations, blessed through anointing and corporate prayer at church. Yes, I am tired. I am ready for this chapter to close. But God is with me. He still sees me. He still hears me. He has not given up.

So neither will I.

Grace and peace along the way.

Never Once

Gentle Reader,

According to my self-imposed little schedule, I’m supposed to post today.

But I don’t really have anything to say. Maybe the rhinovirus has taken it out of me. So, instead of words, I give you song. Soak in its truth.

Grace and peace along the way.

Five Minute Friday: Turn

Gentle Reader,

‘Tis that five minute time with Kate and the gang. We: turn.

Go.

Ugh. Down with a cold, the second one in three weeks. Got my tissues, my soup, my orange juice, my cough medicine – the cough medicine I’m not really supposed to take but I’m so desperate for sleep that I’ll take it anyway. It’s not good for my liver. My liver who’s playing host to a guest.

It’s a tumor.

Or a tumah.

Depends on your accent.

It’s really bizarre to be told that you’ve got this bubble-like thing growing on one of your organs. You’re happy when they say it’s almost surely benign, but still. It’s a thing. A thing that shouldn’t be there. And now you’ve got a consultation scheduled with an oncologist who specializes in hepatobilliary tumors.

At least he’s a dog person, according to the information your mom found.

I don’t know if I’m overwhelmed or just smack in the center of that peace that doesn’t make any sense. Either way, this is the truth to which I turn:

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This is one of those “God said it so I believe it” times. I don’t know what’s going to happen. Surgery and recovery and tests. Long words I can’t pronounce. The possibility of being force-fed Jell-O.

Whatever comes, God will save me.

And you.

Stop.

Let us turn to Him.

Grace and peace along the way.