Get me to water

Tuesday morning after our first meeting with the oncologist, I was shattered all over again. I was feeling a different kind of grief. I was grieving my life as well as my fathers. My life would never be the same, and I didn’t want cancer to define me. I was feeling trapped, and I needed to get out of my house. Out of all this cancer talk. I needed to reconnect with me. I took the top of my Jeep down and drove to a lake that I knew would be empty early morning when it was 50 degrees outside. 

At the lake I cried. I went through all the stages of grief in two hours, this time, leaving with a full head and heart of acceptance. I prayed and for the first time since my father passed. I felt connected to God and my father again. I was at peace with the fact that I had cancer, and I was going to be okay. I was going to beat this. I was no longer worried about beating the cancer, I was now worried about the journey. I watched the water move, and I realized I was like the water, just moving through my circumstances with the full force of a tsunami wave. 

At the water I also realized that if my father was alive right now, this would have killed him. It would have killed him to see me in so much pain and so scared. It also dawned on me that he could do more fighting and good from Heaven than he could have done down here on Earth. This cancer diagnosis pushed me to accept the passing of my father as well as my journey to a new normal. 

The cancer was not going to define me, but it was going to cause me to grow. To be uncomfortable and grow as a person. There were bigger plans for me, and God knew much better than I did. They do say that God laughs at the best laid plans. He was laughing at me because His plans were bigger than mine. 

For I am like a piece of sea glass, completely shattered by my circumstances but being molded by my surroundings to become something more beautiful. I am ready with open arms. Mold me.