Even storms have a purpose

so the cancer grows, bit by bit, it grows.  The reality is it's never really stopped growing for years now.  But we can forget about it for periods of time.  And that's good, it's good to have a break, good to focus on all the others things that are a part of life.  Today the doctor advises me to think about treatment again, to not let it go unchecked for much longer.  This news is not what I nor people around me wanted to receive.  We want life to be rosy and lovely all the time.  Of course we do.  But why?  Why do we not love the storms too?  Storms have much purpose when you stop to think about it.

I was in the barn tonight, cleaning stalls, brushing the horses, listening to them munch hay....I was thinking about how life is so much like the weather.  We so look forward to the clear days, when the sun shines and the wind gently blows?  Or the calm night when the stars glow bright.  I pushed the wheelbarrow outside to discover that a storm had blown in.  Gone was the mild night.  The rain pelted my cheek and the wind swirled my hair.  At first I tucked my head down and hunched my shoulders.  But then I lifted my chin, and once again felt the rain hit my face and the wind tussle my hair.  Sure it was rougher and harder but it was not actually bad.  

So tonight, I lift my chin to feel the rain, to love the storm.  

This is not me in the photo, but I love how she is smiling up into the rain.

The night before a doctor's appointment.

It's bedtime the night before a doctor's appointment...I've already seen the test results.  Yep, I still have cancer.  Yep, it's still growing slowly.  Do I think about cancer often?  Yep, every single day, sometimes many times a day.  What do I think about?  Everything.  But tonight I find myself in a strange place with my thoughts.  I realize I am reminiscing.  So much has happened.  There has been so much time spent on my cancer...thinking and talking about it, planning, attempting to control, seeing doctors, going for treatment, going for tests, thinking about it some more.  And in the midst of all that time spent on cancer a lot of life has been lived.  In 2008 I was told 2 more years, and I went to Mexico desperate for options.  In 2010 it was a heavy chemo regime in Montreal.  Yet here it is, 2015.  In a few weeks I will celebrate 25 years of marriage with a man has hung in there with me honoring all his promises; for better or worse, in sickness and in health.  The baby boy who grew in my belly at the same time as the cancer is becoming a strapping young man with wide shoulders and a smile that always reaches his eyes.  Our daughters are no longer children, they are both adults making their own journeys in life, women whose friendship I now cherish.  There has been the hallmark occasions; the birth of a grandchild, attending graduations, weddings, trips and the list goes on.  There has been many moments that are less grand in description but perhaps more grand in impact; a conversation that touched on subjects rarely spoken of, a walk in the woods, an early morning chat over coffee, a moment with a stranger, a smile that said 1000 words.  Things that happen when you are open to receive and grateful for the gift.

The Lord has blessed me with so much, given grace and then more grace.  I've done a lot of things I am not proud to speak of, taken much for granted, been careless with my gifts and my time and yet still, I am abundantly blessed.  "a wretch like me"

For all that has happened, all that I have gotten through, I feel unsettled tonight.  I can read the test results and I know the cancer continues to creep.  In me there is still a desire to plan my life.  What treatment?  When?  For what result and for how long?  Despite all I have learned about letting go, I admit today I yearn for a concrete plan.  And that is not possible.

This is not a typical post I know.  Usually I have a specific message to share.  Not today.  Today I simply share that I feel a bit lost.  Not unhappy.  Just a bit lost in the fog.  Perhaps my life in general is like that...work, home and health...all are foggy and unclear in direction at the moment.  It's like that in the mountain pass at times...when you are passing through a narrow spot, it can be hard to see the path.  It's okay, it's just a place I am passing through. (more on my thoughts on narrow spots in past blog post Weed the garden...how God helped me to handle this rough 

I write all this because I feel connected with those of you who have walked this journey with me in your own world...sometimes you have written to me and told me of the things we share.   You have let me know how our lives connected.  Thank you for that.

with much love, Teresa

First chemo day, 2010 - Jewish General in Montreal

Tanner and me waiting for the bus - no hair Mom - fall 2010

With my girls, Christmas 2010 - no hair, no care - much love.