Me...Strong and Brave?

"In my daughter's eyes I am a hero.
I am strong and wise and I know no fear.
But the truth is plain to see
She was sent to rescue me.
I see who I want to be
In my daughter's eyes."
James T. Slater



Just like the poem says, my daughters tell me how strong  I am…
I have been called both brave and strong…the bravest, the strongest. But, the truth is…
I am neither.
Am I brave for fighting for my life? Not any more-so than you would be. Bravery means going that extra mile to help someone else…to make a difference in someone else’s life, not just for the preservation of your own life…that is to be attributed to an instinctual…God-given will to live.
What about strength? Am I strong because I endured some really painful and terrifying events in my life, and managed to survive them? No, again…at least not the way you might think. I had a lot of weak moments…still do, and probably always will. I was kept by the strength of the Lord…while my own strength failed and often.

I probably did all the wrong things right…I whined, railed,, got mad, and felt downright sorry for myself.

And although I [still] continue to be carried upon His grace…I have been less than gracious at times.

There are those of you who, I believe to be much braver and stronger than I…some of you face everyday challenges such as clinical depression, chronic debilitating illness, anxiety, loss, (the list goes on)…You continue to live your lives in such a way as to have triumphed over what seems like insurmountable odds…with a certain dignity, bravely telling your stories, one day at a time with an honesty that might have made you vulnerable, yet only showed your true strength…a strength that also comes from knowing Jesus as your Savior. You are an inspiration to me!

And my daughters…all three of them have faced life’s challenges head on with courage and dignity, never allowing hardship to make them bitter or angry; they are the sweetest, dearest young women that a mother could ever hope for.

Each one of them have had more than their share of trials…Actually, according to the Word of God..he never gives anyone more than they can bear…so in that case, my girls are able to bear great burdens! More than I have.

I cannot say enough about my husband, my knight in shining armor. He has had a hard time dealing with all of this, yet he managed to hide it from me (most) of the time,…Always looking after me, holding me when I cried, Tucking me in and telling me how beautiful he thinks I am even without breasts or hair, flirting with me everyday, even when I was too weak to put on my makeup or get dressed…and then today, I removed the nail polish from my fingernails after a couple of weeks of it being on, only to discover very ugly brown nail beds with dry cracked fingernails…another chemo side effect…And he sat me down, and lovingly applied new nail polish on them for me. This man has held down a full time job with lots of overtime throughout the winter months, and then came home and cooked and cleaned  (did my work),…and then drove me back and forth to appointments, sitting for hours in an uncomfortable chair while I got my chemo infusions…Never complaining, even when he was in a great deal of pain himself with Rheumatoid Arthritis…The list goes on and on. 

But, just like the poem says: I see who I want to be in my daughters eyes…This holds true for what I see in my Husband’s and my friend’s eyes as well…All of the encouraging comments and emails, cards, phone calls, and  prayers, were some of the ways in which the Lord carried me through some of my weakest days…It was His strength working through everyone else…His arms and legs…that brought me this far. Helping me to hang onto hope and building my faith.

I feel strange now…It is as if in order to get through surgery, and treatment, and everything that came along with that, I was numb and just kept moving forward…but now…I feel like I have been ran over by a MACK truck! The reality of what my body, mind and spirit has gone through…and what my family has gone through this year just hit me! This is probably Post Traumatic Stress Disorder…a common thing after a cancer diagnosis.

To survive something so dangerous is to survive only one day at a time. Sometimes just barely. There really are no pink ribbons adorning my life…only plaid pajamas with tissues stuffed into every available pocket as I trudge through my house slowly doing my housework with little to no energy these days.

I am not a pretty picture…but I am breathing. I do not feel well yet, but I am hoping…and above all else…I am praying and praising the Lord with a grateful heart!

Still taking it one day at a time.

~Blessings & Love~

and remember, we are…

~NEVER FORSAKEN~