A Miracle Friend...

God is sovereign.
Whether I'm willing to accept that or not amidst different times of my life...He IS.
It's too easy to forget...or perhaps hard to admit...the sovereignty provided in every single step of my treatment and recovery just two years ago. But setting my hurt aside and my pride down, it is important that I once again acknowledge the answers, the process, the people that were all provisioned. Isaiah 61:3 says: To appoint unto them that mourn in Zion, to give unto them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness; that they might be called trees of righteousness, the planting of the Lord, that He might be glorified. He WANTS to provide replacement...support...and strength. And He did. And He still is, whether or not I choose to acknowledge that He is.

Lately, I have wanted to 'punish' Him by not acknowledging His sovereignty over my life...as He's allowed so much suffering and pain and anguish. That's anything BUT sovereignty, right?!
But when I was wise and cornered, clear-minded and open-hearted, I claimed these things as blessings! Yes. Not just trials, but BLESSINGS! Even that Laura Story song became 'my song' because of it's reiteration of this lesson. But just like anything else with denial, eventually, the truth must be faced, accepted and even--Lord willing--celebrated.

Today I attended a 'Celebration of Life' for one of the most impactful people that God sovereignly provided me amidst my cancer battle. Since my truthfulness on here will hopefully help set me free, I am urged to admit my cynicism born, again, out of more hurt. Losing her cut me deeply on so MANY levels that I was not prepared for. Why Lord?! Why I am 'celebrating' my friend today when I should be deeply pained that you took her away from all of us and her husband and three small children who need her!
I sat in a chair today, looking all around at the hoards of people there to 'celebrate' her with me...listening to the stories of all she's touched in her short 30-some years of life...realizing that right to her very last breath, SHE, HERSELF, celebrated life. Sure, we had phone conversations where we shared in our sorrows and frustrations, losses and struggles. But right to the very end, she gave it all to the Lord.
While there, a couple different epiphanies punched me smack in the gut.

The first: We travelled the cancer road, somewhat side-by-side and yet she is now gone..and I am still here. What am I doing with my 'here' status? Shunning the Lord and allowing the stripping I endured to hold me in a place of shame and insecurity?
What a waste. A waste of time Katie would've given just about anything to have.

The second: This amazing woman faced the realities of death. Calmly. And COMPLIANTLY. Sure she had human moments of fear--like the text she sent me when boarding her plane home after just receiving her '6 week's to live' news--'I am hugging my Hayley pillow as tightly as possible right now.'
Talk about feeling helpless in a moment I wished more than ever that I could wave my magic wand! But than via her sister after just 5 days later, she was suddenly admitted to the hospital with 'not much time left'--'Katie just sat the kids down and calmly explained that she was going to be with Jesus now.' As much as I may be kicking and screaming that God saw it fit to take her home and away from all of us who loved her and benefited so greatly from her beautiful spirit and graceful way of using her God-gifts on us... she was ready. Her calmness and compliance was sincere...but it was a RESULT of her sincere faith in and love for the Lord.
She was ready for His Kingdom.
I, on the other hand have much to learn, still.

I found it ironic that her dad (who is my 'second dad'), while hugging me today, muttered into my ear, 'Thank you for being Katie's best friend through this', as I believe she did FAR MORE for ME than I did for her. I spent the hour+ car-ride on may way down there today feeling my usual *for the past year anyway* anger and sadness and not celebratory at all. A dear friend who helped me through one of the most excruciating times of my life didn't get her miracle. Her sister said to me, on the morning of her passing, 'I just thought for sure God would give her her miracle given that He gave her the married name 'Marical...it just seemed too perfect.' Her words rang in my ears all week long...I agreed...and they fed my anger. But as I sat and watched and listened and experienced Katie's testimony to the hundreds of people in that room, I felt ashamed and disappointed in myself, as Katie's friend, knowing how much she would disapprove.

I had one last big, long gut-wrenched cry tonight while in the bath. Uncontrollable sobs turned into my begging God for forgiveness.
'Forgive me for pushing you away. For leaning on my own understanding, alone. For resenting what you've allowed. For LOSING FAITH. PURPOSELY.'

And then it dawned on me.
Julie...
Katie's miracle may not of come in the form of restored health and more life. I grieve with you in that fact and I even feel guilty about it, in some ways.

But, perhaps the miracle--as the pastor said today--came in a different form. Katie's miracle is the role that she played in all of our lives. The role that she played in MY life, just today, when HER testimony played a huge part in my willingness to fully re-open my heart to the Lord.

And THAT is something worth celebrating.

It's Time...

It's time for me to start writing again.

Not in response to all those around me who've prodded why I haven't been.
Not even just because I need some kind of 'outlet' for my feelings--as my counselor has said.

But because, tonight.....
as I laid in a bathtub filled with bubbles--my precious-hearted mother's quiet attempt to sooth her miserably sad daughter--I poured over my thoughts of anger towards the Lord...thoughts that I've been battling with, on and off, for the past year and a half now. How on earth could a 'loving God' allow such anguish in my life. News and more news, adjustment after adjustment. Allowing me, STILL, to be in what feels like Job's book! Haven't I learned ENOUGH?! Haven't I HAD ENOUGH?! Haven't I endured and experienced..ENOUGH!?!?! Do you even HAVE AN 'ENOUGH' on your gauge for me?!!?
Call it a pity party if you must. Honestly, what you think I am struggling with or why I AM struggling doesn't make any difference. The reality is...that I AM STRUGGLING.
STILL.
And haven't really ever stopped.


And then...I realized. It's time.
It's time for me to stop being angry. To STOP struggling.
It's time for me to stop pushing God away. Why?
Well, for starters, it's CLEARLY NOT WORKING.

My counselor asked me at an appointment, 'Why do you think you stopped writing' and my response was, 'It's like my writing was then--in the midst of everything--and it belongs with THAT time--but now is a different time and if life has to be a 'new normal' then I want DIFFERENT.

But here's the problem...when I was writing I was CLINGING TO THE LORD. I was being HELD, in a corner, and instead of making the choice to kick and scream and panic, I was making the choice to LOOK TO HIM. As soon as I was released from that corner, I ran from that room, slammed the door shut and never looked back. And He's been standing there, waiting for me to visit ever since. Instead, I've chosen to occasionally walk BY the door, throw a few curse words out and feel angry at all the redecorating that was done to the other rooms of my 'house' while I was in my prolonged time out. (And even continues to BE done, without my consent!)

And you know what?!
Just like it's exhausting for a small child to throw a temper tantrum for 45 minutes only to earn ZERO response from their parent...I am EXHAUSTED of doing so with the Lord. And truthfully, He must be just shaking his head at my willingness to waste such precious time in the first place.


It's not healthy to tell a person whose been through a life-altering circumstance that you're 'glad they survived and can go back to life now.' I know I've said this before, but I urge any of you who have not been challenged in your own life in this way to be extra careful to not say that to anyone who has.
It's simply not true. And it can actually make the hurting person feel GUILTY for not being grateful for 'getting past' that trial and therefore leave no room for the necessary process of grievance and acceptance to take place. Just because the scars are not visible to you and they 'look great' doesn't mean that their house was not DRASTICALLY 'redecorated' during that season of trial. In fact, rest assured...our trials are MEANT to change us...hopefully..eventually..for the better, for the New Kingdom's purpose.

As my dad said to me recently, 'there is a NEED to mourn the unchosen changes and losses caused by our trials.' I NEED to be able to talk about and cry about the loss of my fertility and therefore the loss of my option to biologically produce another beautiful baby with my amazing best friend and husband. I NEED to be able to mourn the loss of so much of my previous physical body. My breasts. The scars left  in their place. My 20-something body...the function of a normal 30-something body. Those are LOSSES. But like all things mourned, their is a time to do so...and then their is a NEED for healing to take place. I am ready for that healing but in order to do that, I have to stop harboring the anger, regret, loss and disappointment that has been keeping me from re-entering the room in which the One   who WANTS to comfort me most and heal my wounds in His Way can do so.

So...like a woman going into her first real contractions of labor who claims the start of what is a necessary process for a life-altering chapter to begin says...
it's time.
Time for me to embrace what life is now. What God still has planned for me...for US......
IN THE DAYS AHEAD.
Time to be done angrily mourning what once was because those things will never be again......time to allow the Lord to inflict what still CAN be in this life. I haven't even been willing to look Him in the face, truly, for the past year and a half for Him to do so...but that doesn't mean that He doesn't WANT ME TO.
He is, in fact, waiting on ME. Like a good parent should. No extra attention. Just calm, quiet patience.

Sorry Lord, forgive me. I think I'm ready now.
I think it's time.