OCTOBER

More often than not, I'm tempted to let my hope die.  It could be from brain injury frustrations or just life events.  Regardless of the source, God is always there ready to empower us with His Spirit.  So on this cloudy pumpkin picture, we have Romans 15:13: May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in Him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.

Approximately 4 months after my brain injury, a dear friend was diagnosed with cancer.  Our journeys have looked different, but in the middle of her health falling apart she never gave up hope.  So, the final dedication in the 2023 calendar is for her.  

For Katy Jo, 

my friend who kicked cancer's butt and demonstrated what it looks like to let Jesus carry you through the worst of days.  His light radiates through you.  Thank you for inspiring me in my own health journey to never lose hope. 

The words below are written in entirety by my beloved sister in Christ, Katy Jo McDaniel.

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 The following is an excerpt from a speech I gave sharing some of my story with a local ministry here in Huntsville, Alabama. As I prayed and thought through what to share here, these particular words consistently came to mind. I pray that the Lord uses them to bless your heart today!

“In December of 2021, I felt a lump in my breast when I was in the shower one night. I came out and told my husband I thought I had breast cancer, and though he said he didn’t think I did, he felt what I showed him and then suggested calling my doctor the next day. No one thought it was cancer. Not a single medical professional. But, on January 3rd, 2022 I was diagnosed with breast cancer at 32 years old. The call came in as my 6 year old was playing outside in the snow and my 8 month old was screaming in the background. I texted my husband that he needed to come home immediately, while I listened to the woman on the phone whose words changed my life in an instant.

After a few weeks of scans, testing, and appointments, we had a plan and a path forward. Though the cancer was aggressive, in His mercy God also allowed us to find it early, before it had spread to any lymph nodes or other parts of my body. We told our sweet girls that “mommy had cancer” and cried when my oldest asked immediately if I would die. “The doctors feel really confident about the medicine mommy will take and that they will be able to make mommy’s cancer go away, but yes baby mommy will lose her hair.” We all cried, and then we ate pizza and watched Clifford because what else do you do when your mom tells you she has cancer and you’re in kindergarten.

I went through 6 months of intense chemotherapy, where my once long red hair was replaced with a bald head. There was so much to grieve, and there was so much to be thankful for. Some moments it felt like I was smoldering in the ashes, and others I cried over the beauty of God’s care for me amidst the deepest sorrow of my life. Friends, family, and my care team were Jesus to me each and every day, loving me, seeing me, and believing for me when I couldn’t see a way forward. God loosened my grip on the lives of my children, and showed me that I can’t be and won’t be able to be everything for them all the time. He loves them and provides for them when I can’t, and though I still deeply grieve the impact my sickness has had on them, I have also seen them, specifically my oldest, develop a faith and resilience that I don’t know that she would have experienced otherwise.

I had surgery and pathology came back that I had had a fantastic response to chemo, with just the tiniest little bit of cancer left, which they were able to completely remove during surgery. I had a long recovery, where I couldn’t snuggle or hold my babies, but God sustained each of us every single day. Several friends drew near, visiting me weekly, sitting by my bed or helping me sit outside for a few minutes. They could have left, pulled away in the uncomfortableness of my bald head, stitches and surgical drains, but instead they came closer, and showed me how Jesus cares for the hurting and the broken. They weren’t afraid of me or my pain and they saw me as worthy of love regardless of what I could offer them.

I had my second surgery this past November, and was cleared from all surgical restrictions on January 3rd, the same exact day I was diagnosed the prior year. My surgeon’s words were “You’re Free” never knowing how much those words would resonate deep within my soul.

My life has not been one without pain or sorrow. Many of my plans have never come to fruition and instead have been replaced by stories I would not have written. AND, God has given me eyes to see the beauty too. There has been SO MUCH OF IT. Often I haven’t seen it, but He has and is waking me up, each day, to see the good gifts He gives amidst the sorrow of the brokenness of this world.

We WILL have trouble, but He has overcome the world. 

We WILL have pain, but He will wipe away our tears. 

We WILL have fear, but he will draw near.

I have come to find that beauty for ashes doesn’t always seem like an equal exchange. Regardless of the beauty and immeasurable gifts God has given me, I still don’t know that I could say with an honest heart that I would have chosen any of the trials that have been my path. I just can’t. I think often we are quick to assign meaning to tragedy and suffering, instead of living it and grieving it and allowing God to simply care for us amidst it.

AND, what I can absolutely see is that our sufferings are NOT meaningless. Not a thing I have been through, or will go through. Not a thing you have been through, or will go through. None of it is meaningless. He cares for the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit. He redeems and restores and gives life. He brings joy and care. He brings beauty not just after, but IN the ashes.

May we walk forward together, hand in hand, knowing that He is present and with is, bestowing us with a headdress of beauty on the most glorious and the most painful of days. May God bless you and bring you peace.