I guess I’m going to share this, it’s quite personal which is why I never said anything before, but it’s beginning to make so much sense that I thought I could go ahead and put it out there. Realizing there’s a huge margin for looking like a complete Looney Tune here, I need to say that a few weeks ago I went to a Christian conference. Not a normal one, this one was different. I was unsure about going but ended up meeting up with a few friends and I’m very glad I did! The speaker, Graham Cooke, spoke straight to my heart and unlocked some things that have truly opened my eyes. The thoughts aren’t fully and comprehensively formed yet so I’m not putting all that here.
What I wanted to share was that there was someone there who didn’t know who I was or what my struggles were, but he or she felt compelled to write me a note. Just based on seeing me. They gave it to my friend who was helping at the conference who then gave it to my husband who gave it to me.
This letter hit me hard. How did they know these things? How did they know exactly how to encourage me? It was so crazy, but so amazing, that I’ve kept this note tucked in my Bible ever since.
Here’s and excerpt:
The terms “you are in a season of celebration” and “pray expectantly” actually physically took my breath away when I first read them. For many reasons.
I have a tendency to pray without power. This is something that I was, oddly enough, praying about before I received this letter. And certainly not something I’d ever mentioned to anyone. I was trying to pray with power, with commitment, and with expectation. Expectation that God would hear my cry and work on behalf of those whom I was interceding for. I knew He could, but found myself limiting a limitless God simply because I didn’t understand Him.
And a season of celebration? Yes. That’s exactly how I feel. I feel like I’ve been given this glorious extension, this time that many people in my situation aren’t afforded. Of course that has nothing to do with me, but everything to do with what He wants to accomplish. And I’m on board. 100%.
My celebration is that God is still who He says He is. That He is unchanging. That His promises hold firm, always. That He hears our cries and knows our hearts. I celebrate that He sent His son to do for us what we could never, ever do on our own. I celebrate that He is GOOD! And here’s the best part, He is good, even when we aren’t, even when we are unworthy, even when we can’t see His goodness through the smokescreen of our earthly troubles.
I’m celebrating the fact that I’m quickly closing in on a year since being diagnosed as stage 4 (2 weeks away. 2 weeks until the anniversary of the discovery of my brain tumor and other mets). I’m celebrating that I still feel physically good for the most part. I’m celebrating that I can, at this point, still be the mom and wife that I so desperately want to continue being.
Tonight we had a freak thunderstorm and me and Eric and the kids had a blast trying to collect rainwater for our tiny garden. By the end we were all smiling and laughing and soaking wet.
I wish I could personally thank the person who sent this note to me. I wish in could tell them that everything they said did not fall on deaf ears. That I know that God told them to give me this message and that I’m grateful that they were faithful to Him as it benefited me greatly.
This cancer will likely be the death of me. But not yet, I’m in the season of celebration.
And yes, those of you that know me (and know how obsessed I am with Pitch Perfect), I just saw Pitch Perfect 2, and it was every bit as hilarious as the first and with just as much heart. I got to see it opening night. Didn’t I tell you I’m celebrating??