"I am challenging myself to refine my character based on God’s intervention in my situation."
The beginning stages of being diagnosed with cancer are terrifying. You are trying with everything in you to make sense of what's going on with your body. You know something isn't right, and you know it's probably bad, but what you don't know is how bad it really is. I'm an action-oriented person. When something is wrong, I want to make sense of it and make a plan to fix it. As I mulled over how I would handle cancer, I created this fanciful idea that I would beat cancer with my tried and true method of dealing with anything: working hard or “cowboying up.” I dreamt up a plan that included working out, dedicated prayer and study time, and good ole fashioned letting-your-guard-down intervention with my friends and family. I wanted to come out stronger on the other side. I wanted to be a better version of myself… just with cancer.
Man, was I stupid.
Do you know what working out looks like for me nowadays? A yoga mat and two weights (and I'm too embarrassed to share how much they weigh) that get used maybe twice a week. Do you know what dedicated prayer and study time look like for me? Sporadic moments where the chemo brain fog has lifted and I feel inspired to actually process how I feel. For context, I'm writing this blog at 1:30 a.m. dealing with an upset stomach. And do you know what letting my guard down looks like? It looks like someone who is humbled every single day by something new that God is pushing me to share or address. Plus, I am exhausted from heartfelt, hard conversations. Sorry not sorry. I've never in my life felt so many feelings all at once as I have in this season, and I need a break, specifically a break that looks like a five-day cruise where no one is allowed to speak to each other.
The picture here is, I was way over my head with my plans to “battle” cancer. Cancer’s only goal is to literally kill every living cell in your body. And I thought I’d be down for a 5 a.m. cycling class. Please.
God has—as He is notorious for doing—crumbled my idea of “bettering myself” and replaced it with refining and discovering new, holy characteristics that both help me heal physically and spiritually.
Brandon sent me this scripture one day...
"Not only so, but we also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us." Romans 5:3
... and it motivated me to take stock of how God has inspired me to reflect on my deficiencies and how to better fireproof myself when trouble comes knocking at my door.
Here's what I've come up with so far:
Being a peacemaker. On average, 50% of anyone's job in DC (assuming it's government-related) is to make noise, to bring attention to something, or "fight." I'm all about it. I love it. I love throwing bows for something I care about. I get as hot-headed as the rest of them. There is space for that in my life, but what I've figured out is that there's not space for that in my entire life. There comes a time when I just have to let things go, simply for the greater good. I don't have to have an opinion on something. I don't have to explode with anger over little things like how a stranger talked to me or what so-and-so should do about this-and-that. You know why? #1: I'm just too flippin' tired to care and need to refocus my energy on myself, and #2: I'm trying to be a child of God and be blessed. It's that simple. The Bible says, "Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God." (Matthew 5:9) Drama, hatred, and deceit are such wastes of energy, and frankly, none of us have that to spare. If you ask me what good character looks like, I'm pointing to the peacemakers in my life.
Steadiness. I’ve learned the importance of steadiness from my two best friends: Autumn and Brandon. I never have to guess if they will be in my corner. They're always on the sidelines, holding a rag and a Gatorade bottle for when I need a time out. There is real power in just being there for someone—no advice, no tears, no inspiration. Just being there. No one does this better than Autumn. She has been there for me long before my diagnosis, but her steadiness through this season has been paramount to my ability to heal. Whenever I need her, no matter what for, she is there without question. I am so lucky to have her. I'm so lucky to have Brandon as well. He has been there for every treatment. Every single one. And for the four days after treatment when I am recovering, he is there, too, doing anything and everything I need—from filling up my Stanley cup with water to icing my aching bones. I never question if he will be there or not: I know he will be. When all this is said and done, I hope I am as steady with others as they have been with me.
Confidence. Y'all know Uncle Fester? Off the Addams Family? I look like him 99% of the time. The fact of the matter is, I am a cancer patient. What's the use in hiding that? I am too tired (a growing theme, if you can't tell) to care if the public realizes that. My bald head, IV needle bruises, and surgery scars are just a part of who I am for the time being. I don't need a, "you go girl" or "werk it hunny" from anyone. God has gifted me with this comfortably with myself as I go through treatment that has translated into how I walk through my daily life. I am more confident in my skill set and what I can (and cannot!) offer to my job. I am more confident in my relationships and with who I surround myself. I am more confident in what I do and do not like and am not afraid to adjust my lifestyle to those preferences. I am more confident in what I believe in and know to be true. And I 100% count this new-found confidence as a gift from God. There is no other way to explain these switches flipping on my internal circuit board. Plus, the Bible plainly tells us this gift is in fact from God. 2 Timothy 1:7 says, "For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind." (Thanks, mom, for having me memorize this one!) Confidence inspires action and action results in change. If you remain firm in who you are and what God has placed before you, you become a mighty weapon for the Kingdom.
"But today I'm better" attitude. Countless phone calls with my momma or nanny have included this line: "Yeah, yesterday was rough, but today I'm better." Like I mentioned above, I am out of commission for four to five days after treatment. And when I say out of commission... I mean it. I don't push myself, and most days, I am confined to my bed. We call it my "photosynthesis" because all I need those days is to eat, drink, and sleep. But then one day, after the chemicals have stopped wreaking havoc on my body, my recovery efforts pay off and I bounce back—and boy, does that feel good. When I get over my chemo hangover, I try with all my might to put the pain of that week behind me so I can enjoy the precious time I felt like a halfway normal human. That's what I mean by having a "but today I'm better" attitude. Charging ahead. Leaving yesterday where you found it.
These weren't the traits I thought God would reveal to me in the past few months. I thought he was going to make me into a cowboy!!! But I'm sure glad he exposed these values instead. That verse from Romans Brandon shared seriously hits home, and I am challenging myself to refine my character based on God’s intervention in my situation.
A lot of folks compliment me on how strong and positive I am through all of this. Sure, maybe I am. It's not my own doing, though. I asked God to fill the holes in my character and spirit to persevere, and he has been faithful to answer my request.
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