Hope without the Numbers

     I read an article today from a Facebook page that I had subscribed to. As most people know, October is Breast Cancer Awareness month. You will see the Pink ribbon and its products plastered everywhere from department stores to sports players to fast food promotions.
     In the article, the woman said that she could not support the "Pink movement" because it is for sales.She pointed out that nearly 50% of women will be diagnosed with cancer at some point in their lives. Her statistics were probably right. I have not done the particular study, nor will I. I do not see women as statistics. I do not see cancer as a percentage rate.I do not see Pink ribbons as a sales tactic.
      I see women learning that an illness has invaded their body. I see the struggle each one has to wrap their minds around such a diagnosis. I see a Grandmother, an Aunt, a sister, a friend, possibly myself that could be directly affected by this disease we call cancer.
 On September 6, 1997, I lost a dear sweet lady to the battle of breast cancer. While I was still young, I didn't fully understand what this *thing* was that had taken her life. With two small children at home and not yet at her 38th birthday, she was gone. I wasn't there for the day to day of her being sick. I only saw the beginning of the woman that had made such an impact on my young life and then the body laying there in the casket, looking nothing like the happy, bright smiled person I knew.
     In 2007, shortly after I had my second child, I went to my doctor with severe skin issues. My first biopsy was done to be tested for skin cancer because it ran in my family. It was the first time cancer seemed real to me. Thankfully, within a days time I had gotten my results back and was cancer free.
     In 2011, my Aunt was hit by a drunk driver. She went in to be checked  for injuries after the accident and the x-rays showed a spot on her lung. Having been in remission for many years, she was very reluctant to have a biopsy done. She let time pass and finally had to have it done. Her results came back that she did indeed have cancer. Further exploration showed cancer was in both lungs and moving into her liver.
     In 2012, I was told I needed to be tested for cancer yet again when a tumor was found on my right ovary. This result would take two weeks to get back. What a menagerie of emotions ran rampant those two weeks. What was I going to do? I had three small children that I might not get to see grow up. I had family that I might not get to tell them that I love them. I might leave my husband alone. I might lose everything. It never occurred to me that cancer wasn't the end. I was self-absorbed:all of those things I was going to miss. If there was a ever a time of desperation, it hit me in those two short weeks. It was a crushing weight that was lifted when my results came back that my tumor was benign.
     In 2012, my friend lost her dear, sweet, innocent son to this horrorifying monstrosity. I saw through her eyes as her son fought his battle with a sense beyond anything I could fathom, that cancer was not a monster to be feared, but a reason to hope! Her son, as he battled everyday, brought joy to their lives and to every one that heard about him. He responded in ways that made me ashamed of my waiting time. There wasn't a 'giving up' time, but HOPE! Always a resounding fight of hope! They continue Jacob's  story of hope here
 https://www.facebook.com/pages/Jacobs-Ladder/183700018319939
     My aunt is still battling cancer. She is a frail wisp, like that of a small new child. When I can hug her, I fear of crushing her. I see her downy hair covered in it's bright scarf and realize what was a strong powerful woman, is now skin and scarves,  I talk to her all the time and when she cries, I know logic is setting in and she fears what is coming. The day after a blood transfusion or when she's heard of a new trial medication and she calls to tell me about it, it gives me hope just as it has given her. While she is making arrangements for her families future,she still talks of things she wants to do. She still has hope!
    While these pink ribbons may only mean numbers to some, to others who battle this disease first hand, to those who are their shoulder, for those that have lost, they are a hope. Hope that a cure can be found and cancer can be stopped before it takes more innocent lives in its cruel hand. I see a ribbon and I am reminded of my friend, a precious child, my Aunt and they remind me that no matter what is going on in my life that is crushing, there is ALWAYS ALWAYS hope!
    I buy my ribbons without thought of numbers. I buy it as a sign of hope for everyone that I love. At times, hope is all there is, but it is enough for the moment!

One of my favorite quotes is  "When the world says Give up, Hope says Try it one more time." 

If you'd like to understand more about cancer and how it is affecting people everywhere please visit:
www.breastcancerawareness.com
www.cancer.org
www.pinkribbon.com

An aware person, is a hopeful person!

Can't Pass It By

     There is a big, beautiful, full moon out there shining brightly! No long post today. How can one sit in front of a monitor when there is such a sight waiting just outside?! Until tomorrow....

With What I See

     There are moments. They are often. These moments come at easy times when I am comfortable, complacent really. They also come when I am so uncomfortable it is as though my inside is trying to burst from beneath my skin out into the open air. I never think of them when they arrive, but rather much afterwards. They are the moments when I doubt of God.
     I say 'doubt of God' because to doubt in God is to deny He is indeed God. The doubt of Him is to question His movement, to question His understanding of my needs, to question that He really knows what is best for me, and intends to allow it to happen.
     The first reason for my doubting is: I can not touch God. He had no physical body. I can not feel the warmth from the palm of His hand on my face. I do not feel the softness of His embrace as He comforts me in my weakness.
     Another, I do not hear God in the most verbal sense. His voice does not penetrate my ears like that of  my child's song or so much as the wind in the leaves. He does not tell me when He is displeased in a stern voice. Nor does He speak with the voice of a man to tell me if I have given Him joy or pain. I can, in my own mind, give Him a voice. This also lends to doubt.
     I can only 'hear' the promptings of God in the sounds of my own voice. My voice has steered me foul countless time. It is not to be trusted.
    Herein lies the majority of my confusion for doubt. God speaks to me in a voice that I lend Him. I must trust that what He is telling me in this made-up voice is right? It is true?
    I am human. I relate to all things in my humanity. I look for God in this first. I want His human-ness to speak to my human-ness.
     Yet, there is another plane to which I can relate. My spirit to His Spirit. I like to think of this as my secret room. The place where all is spoken in whispers. The wall are shrouded in thick, wispy, white gauze. A sparkle like the moonlight rippling on a lake appears with each soft breath. Every ready to be visited.
     God has spoken to me here often. Before there were things like bills, motherhood, and self abased humanity, He spoke with me.  I think back at the times when I  faithfully sought Him out. I would not look for Him elsewhere but here in this place, on this plane. How calm I was after. The plethora of stress would melt from me and I could breathe. I breathed the breath of freedom, of peace.
    This started my thinking.......
    Thinking....the whole problem! I try to validate God with my mind. With my human mind. I will win my argument against Him every time! There is too much evidence to prove against His very existence.
     If I search for Him with my spirit....ah! now I begin to feel and see more deeply. How could He not exist?! How could such blissful feelings of serenity be self-invoked? They can not! My humanity strives to comparison. I want to see how argument my compares to someone else's. Not when I am on the spirit's plane. I yearn for peace and it is granted when I am here.
     This is the moment when I realize God IS the place where my heart takes hope and all doubt fades in the presence of His Spirit. For now, the doubt is wiped away. It is no longer important whether God understands my needs, if He has my best interest. I know these things. I am not sure why, but just being one with Him, I just know.
     What will tomorrow bring? Will I remember to revel in the gauzy room or will I again doubt God and His meaning? It is a daily choice.

"Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things unseen." Hebrews 11:1