I have a feeling I will feel this way towards the end of each round. A continuation of that “is this even real??” feeling, and that “oh yeah…even though you feel fine…you still have cancer” feeling. In all honesty, I have had a wonderful week. The reason I haven’t posted in a while is simply because life has nearly felt normal. In more ways than one, this feeling is a good one, because it means I have suddenly gotten used to my routine, my medications, my schedule, and a new life away from many things I thought I would still be doing 2 months ago. This week I have enjoyed time at home with my family, a fun date with my handsome boy, and a special night getting the opportunity to lead worship at my youth group. I got the opportunity to sing the same song I had sung the night before I found out about my diagnosis. I mentioned in a previous post that the few days before my diagnosis were very special to me, and will be special for the rest of my life. I had chosen to focus on little glimpses of the Lord’s presence in each of the days leading up to my own personal day of “broken”…and I wasn’t quite sure why. God made it clear to me that I needed him in those moments even when I thought I didn’t. The song Death Was Arrested states, “My mourning grew quiet, my feet rose to dance. That’s when death was arrested, and my life began.” What precious words. Both the word “mourning” and “dance” happen to be placed in the same sentence, sang with the same breath. Though we do experience mourning in this life, God tells us that such emotion is never permanent. We are given the opportunity to raise our feet, raise our bodies and…dance. Dance in the moments of sorrow and in the moments of joy.
An example of dancing in sorrow for myself last night, was simply repeating the lyrics of this song to a young congregation who is yearning for a relationship with the creator. Personally, it was a moment of emotional exhaustion. But not for a moment did I feel like I would need to stop, turn around, or stop singing. I knew in that moment, stronger than I have ever known before, that the Lord was moving through me. Through every word and every breath. His presence was a feeling of support that I didn’t even realize I had been graced with until after I sat down. That last fact is one of the most beautiful I think I have ever come to terms with. When we are glorifying the Lord with our words and our actions, it simply comes naturally and it feels personal. It feels like you. That’s because the Lord is simply speaking through you, and you are just a physical representation of him in that moment. How awesome is that? Even cooler is the fact that he chooses the most ordinary individuals, beings who will never measure up to his greatness and his love, to represent the Father of all Nations…the living, breathing, holy God.
I experienced a moment of weakness as I stepped in front of my mirror last night to find myself staring back at a girl with nearly no hair left on her head. With the ability to pull back parts of my hair to get a glimpse of my scalp and suddenly imagine myself with no hair at all. I wanted to hit something. To pull all the rest of my hair out right there. For a few minutes I couldn’t do anything but watch the silent tears run down my face and question once again “why?”. In the back of my mind I guess I was hoping I would have my hair for longer than a month into my journey, but I’ve learned that sometimes it’s just extremely difficult to come to terms with things that we wish were never true. If I had it my way, I would start my life from the beginning urging young girls to ignore the definition of outward beauty. Because no matter how many times I tell myself things are going to be fine, they are still going to be different. I call these moments of mine “bubbles of weakness” because a bubble is just as easily blown up as it is popped. The moment of weakness comes just as easily as it goes. I have come to terms with my circumstances and I am ready to take action regarding my hair. I am excited to announce that I will be shaving my head this Sunday night. I will looking into wigs and sporting some new headbands and hats, but once again…not many people can say they were bald for a period of their life. Bring on the most defining moment of confidence I have had to experience in my 18 years of living.