Exactly 1 week after completing my active cancer treatment, I found myself right back where I started. I sat in an exam room, listening to a doctor share the same soul crushing, stomach turning, burning words. Affirming that the tumor was in fact cancer.
This time, I was not the patient. This time I was the nearest bystander. I heard the blast as the landmine was detonated. I was sent flying into the air and now I sit and watch from where I landed, hoping to see that she remains in one piece.
Does Cancer sit beside the Grim Reaper, sadistically placing his mines, waiting for detonation? Laughing maniacally as people attempt to repair their broken lives?
It feels that way.
How seamlessly God has woven together this tapestry of misfortune.
I’m listening. I’m watching. I see the perfect transition.
I’m trying to hold onto the bright light of faith. That same bright light that shines at the end of long, daunting tunnels. The light that makes up our very souls.
We will fight through. If I can do it, so can she.