HIS plan...Not mine!

Nothing is too hard for God!  Jeremiah 32:7 makes this bold statement. Today, at this point in my journey, I know this to be true.  I know this to be true because God's strength has brought me through some life situations where my human strength

got up and ran like it was being chased by a horror movie monster. There have been a few in my life but the horror movie monster I think of at this time of year is breast cancer.  The great mobs of pink brings memories to the surface that are usually hidden away.

I love the support that is shown this time of year. 

I was especially proud of the girl's volleyball teams here at St. Paul's this year.  They showed such love and support for their coach, whose sister is battling breast cancer.  I love all the supportive posts and pink clothes. (After all pink is one of my favorite colors.) It all however makes me a little trepidatious.          Ok, trepidatious is a timid word, sometimes it causes me totally guys lurking in the cornfield across the street, fear! It starts a trail of spiraling questions that sounds something like this...

Is it back?

How long until it comes back?

Will it be worse?

Do I have the strength to do it all again?

Will I survive?

These thoughts come at other times of year but they seem to be triggered more in the month of October.  I remind myself: Nothing is too hard for God! I can't let myself cave to the insecurities. I have been there, and done that.  

When I was first diagnosed we were on a mountaintop of life.  We were about to adopt our three foster children and become a forever family. One day in the shower, I felt a lump in my right breast.  I always checked myself once a month in the shower, something I learned in high school health class, and it just stuck.  Totally a God thing.  When I felt it I told myself, "no it couldn't be, your too young for that." (I was 29 at the time.) I finally got up the courage to tell Tim and my Mom.  They said I needed to get it checked out, but I was too young for that.  I went to my doctor and during the exam she felt something too.  She sent me for a mammogram with the words: "don't worry, you're too young for that."  During the mammogram the tech told me not to worry it was probably just fatty tissue, because you guessed it: 

After that they send Tim and I to sit in this little room to wait for the results.  Someone came in, I don't remember who, and said there was definitely something there and they wanted to do a biopsy.  The gentlemen who did the biopsy told me again not to worry, I was probably benign because I was just too young.  Well at this point I am worried!!! A lot worried!!!!

We went home to await the results. It was only a few days but time went by sooooo slow.  
Then the call came. I answered. It was my doctor. Not the receptionist, not the nurse, my actual doctor was on the phone.  I knew the news wasn't good.  I had cancer! But I was too young for that!!! We were about to adopt these three amazing kids.  This could not be possibly happening.  Why would God do this when everything was going so well? (A question the devil was very happy to hear me ask.) What would happen to my new family if I was gone?  And then the thought that made me take things into my own hands.  
Would they let us adopt our kids if I was sick?  Would they take them away if I was possibly terminally ill? (A diagnosis I made up in my head, no doctor ever said this.) The devil circulated all these scenarios in my head.  I made a decision.  A decision not to rely on God's perfect plan, which had led us to the mountaintop.  I take things into my own hands.  We just wouldn't tell the agency.  My surgery was to take place about a month before the adoption.  We would have that done, the kids would be adopted and then chemo would start.  No one would ever be the wiser.  And that's exactly what we did!

We went to the court room.  I was still moving very slowly but I kept my head up and moved as naturally as possible.  The day went off smoothly, but I was so scared that somebody would find out. 

We went about life. 

I started chemo, my hair fell out. We were in Meijer one day and ran into our adoption social worker.  It was pretty obvious that I was ill.  (Riding around on the motorized cart with no hair.) I broke down weeping right there in the middle of the store and told her the whole story.  I asked her to forgive me for being deceptive.  She smiled kindly and told me all was forgiven.  She wished we had talked to her so they could have supported us.  There was no need to hide anything.  It wouldn't have affected the adoption.  

I believed the devil when he told me those lies.  I forgot Jeremiah 32:7.  Nothing is too hard for God.  I doubted and let myself be led astray.  I was so overwhelmed when all of this came out.  I was awed by the power of forgiveness.  NOTHING is too hard for God! He brought the situation to light and healed a wound I had felt so guilty for.  Jesus was in that Christian woman who showed me forgiveness.  He was there all along even when I turned my back.  NOTHING is too hard for God.  This isn't a tale of God helping me to survive cancer.  It is so much bigger than that.  This is a tale of God saving me from myself, from my sins, and the power of the devil.

It's October and the devil is shooting those questions at me again.  After every mammogram, I wait with baited breath.  When I hear someone else was diagnosed, I twitch with a bit of anxiety.  Sometimes I even take a tiny little step into the doubt the devil brings.  Then I turn and tell the devil: That I know, without a shadow of a doubt, NOTHING IS TOO HARD FOR GOD!