Yep. This summer I traded beach towels for exam tables. Sunscreen for wound care supplies. Daiquiris for 4 part chemo cocktails. It's more bedside than poolside. More sliding into parking spots in the cancer center parking deck than down Typhoon Twister at White Water. More talk of lymph nodes than lake time. I haven't worn a life jacket or lounged beneath a beach umbrella. I've been wearing my brave pants instead of my two piece.
I don't want you to feel sorry for me... though, I cover that ground too much myself. No, what I want you to know is that I'm becoming all new. That though the summer images I scroll through while waiting for the nurse to come back in don't mirror my summer, when I look with the right eyes, I'm adventuring too.
I don't want you to feel sorry for me... though, I cover that ground too much myself. No, what I want you to know is that I'm becoming all new. That though the summer images I scroll through while waiting for the nurse to come back in don't mirror my summer, when I look with the right eyes, I'm adventuring too.
The sun soaked days of June and July have brought me "rest" as well. And you guys, somehow it's good, really good. My summer view has my gratitude deepening for things more everyday beautiful than Disney and 30A. God's crafting up something new with this girl and her family. I've got courage and hope, dreams and faith, and all the other very best things that come from hard, bubbling up. I'm thinking it's all giving me a newfangled way to walk out my days and view my views from.
Take that, cancer.
Take that, cancer.
2 comments:
White water? Do you live near Branson?
There are times in our life that are transcendent, I can still feel those moments, the kind that change your perception of things forever. Time moves differently. You see things in a new light. Sounds like you'll keep moving forward from here.
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