What Cancer Gave Me

It's been five years today, five years since cancer took my best friend, my father.  I lost a lot because of cancer. Cancer didn't care that I already lost one parent less than a year before. Cancer didn't care that I still needed him. Cancer didn't care that it would take my home, my security, or the only life I knew for 16 years. Cancer didn't care that because of it, I would spend two weeks watching one of the greatest lights I have ever known slowly dim. It didn't care about a lot of things. It surely didn't care about all that it was taking from me.

But it's been five years. Five years of life: of joys, sorrows, hurts, healings... of life, not death.

Cancer doesn't care about anything that it took away from me.
But God sure does care about everything that cancer gave me.

Cancer gave me a better version of the man I already thought was the best.
After my mom's death, my father and I realized how quickly our lives can change and how important it is to show love, which became even more evident when cancer reared its ugly head. My father made sure I knew he loved me, he showed me even more than before how important I was to him. His last words that I remember were "I love you, Marilyn". If it was even possible, my father's compassion, servant's attitude, and love became stronger. He was at church, or somewhere, serving as long as his body would let him. I was once angry with him because he wasn't at home and wasn't answering my texts asking about his location. It turned out he was serving a homeless man and having a conversation about Jesus. Cool Dad, just make me cry because of how well you lived and loved. But that's just the type of man he was... sometimes it makes me angry, come on Dad, you left me ridiculous standards. Anyways, within the days of his sickness, never once did he stop loving or serving.

Cancer gave me a second family.
I will forever be grateful for the second family that I found in the Hennings. They let me be part of their family by staying under their roof for a year and a half and by loving me no matter how far I go. They were there for the big moments my parents would miss and they were there for all the little moments too. They gave me guidance and wisdom that I needed from a parental figure during the last of my high school career. I got more sisters! Come on, who doesn't want more siblings? They let me come home whenever I go back to my hometown for a visit. I forever have a family in them.

Cancer gave me opportunities.
Sometimes I like to think about what life would be like if my parents were still here. But I can't imagine my life any other way than it is now. My life would be very different without cancer. I probably would have never come down to Georgia. I probably would have gone to college somewhere less than two hours away from home and never went any further. I would never have come to TFC. I would have never built the relationship I have with my brother or his wife. I would have never seen their son be the cutest thing ever. I would have never made the friends that I have and I wouldn't trade for anything. I would have never had my internship with Kate's Cub; I probably would have never even looked for an internship like that. Cancer gave me a story, a story that more people can relate to than I would like to talk about. It allowed for me to empathize and grieve with those dealing with this loss.

Cancer gave me Christ.
When your world is shattered twice within such a short time span, you have to cling to something. I clung to what my dad showed me when my mother died. In every which way, I got more of Christ because of cancer. I saw my entire church serve me. If pure religion is taking care of widows and orphans, then my church was following it. People never ran out of love for me, it is overwhelming looking back on just how much I was loved with the love of Christ during that time.  It's so very hard to run away when you have been shown such love and grace. When you see people serve and love like that, it's hard not to want to be like them.

Cancer takes. It's what it does. It kills, destroys, and hurts. I think five years down the line, I can acknowledge that what was intended to destroy has been used for good. Out of death, I have been given life, a good good life. In all things, I continue to have a good good Father, using sorrow to work all things together for my good. Cancer can't take that.

Now, THIS was Supposed to Happen

Exactly a year ago, I wrote a blog about getting rejected for the Compassion internship. I was so sad and so confused about what was going to happen next.

And now, a year later, I look back at that day and the summer of my internship and I can't believe where I am.

I am so grateful that Compassion rejected me.

Don't get me wrong, if I went to Colorado and worked with them, I'm sure it would have been a great experience. I would have met some great people, learned a lot, and had a lot of fun. It would have been great.

But I don't regret my internship or my summer for a second.

My summer was so challenging but so rewarding.

I had an amazing internship. I learned so much through the staff, the tasks, the kids, the other interns. It wasn't my first choice but there was no other place that I would have rather completed my internship.

I got to spend my summer building friendships that I wouldn't trade for the world. We have so many great memories and inside jokes because of that summer.

I wanted that Compassion internship so badly. I was so disappointed when I didn't get it. But I had something so much greater waiting for me.

We're so afraid in the moments of uncertainty. We're so sure that things aren't going to work out. But after every single moment of uncertainty, I can look back and see how everything worked out in my favor. I can look back and see people who encouraged me and stuck by me when I couldn't see what the future would hold.

I feel so silly looking back at those moments of worry.

When have I ever been not taken care of?
When have things not worked out, whether it worked out the way I thought it would or not?
When have I not had people by my side?
What do I have to be so worried about?

Every time I go through one of these moments, I should trust a little more. I should recall the past moments of provision and see that the same will happen.

This was supposed to happen. I was supposed to learn. I was supposed to grow. I was supposed trust. I was supposed to love. I wouldn't have had it any other way. 

To Surprise and Be Surprised

A while back, TWLOHA posted a blog called "There is Still Some Time", reminding us that there are still good things ahead of us. The first time I read it, one line stuck out to me...

"There is still some time to be surprised"

This line surprised me (go figure) at first and then I kept thinking about it. About what it could mean for my life. Then I found myself saying it to myself when I couldn't stand the overbearing thought of what the future holds, when I couldn't get myself out of the fog that calls itself negativity. Then I found myself saying it to my friends when they needed a reminder that the days to come can hold great things despite our past. 

It started to become my mantra about the days and about the years that are before me. 

There is still some time to be surprised. 

About what the future holds... the job oppurtunities, the search to call somewhere home, the heartbreaks and the heart mendings, the big moments, the small moments that mean just as much as the big moments.

About those I love in my life... their joys, their passions, all the things that matter to them, the things they say and do, and who they will become

About me... my healing, my passions, the things that think they will take my joy, the dreams that have yet to appear, the person who I will become. 

There are so many things to be surprised about. There are so many things to look forward to that I won't be able to expect. There are so many surprises that will deserve celebration when the time comes. And I can't wait.

But I don't want to just be surprised. I want to be a part of the surprise.

I want to show up for people when they think no one will be there.

I want to show people that I'm thinking of them with gifts and words and time.

I want to help people heal and grow.

I want to help people reach their dreams and goals.

I want to help people surprise others. 

I want to learn to show grace.

I finished reading If You Feel Too Much by Jamie Tworkowski, the founder of TWLOHA, at 3 am yesterday because I couldn't put it down. And once again his words about this life and surprises burned their way into my mind. 

"I'm starting to believe those things, that the best is yet to be, that life comes back, that the dreams that live inside me are there for a reason, that life is not just a tragedy, not just a story about losing. It is also a story of surprises and grace and redemption, of conversations and moments that feel like miracles."

More importantly, MY story is a story of surprises and grace and redemption and dreams and miracles. As the new year starts, I started to think about what I hoped for this year and I kept coming back to the concept of surprises. This next year of my story is a chance to surprise and to be surprised. With graduating, getting a "real" job, moving out, and all the other big changes that will happen this year, I have plenty of chances to be surprised. Instead of facing these moments with dread and anxiety, I can face them as the surprising opportunity that they truly are. And I can face these moments with the greatest surprises that I have ever received, the people I have the honor of calling friends. And I hope to surprise them as we continue to write our stories together. 

I believe in these things. I believe that there is still some time. 

There is still some time to surprise and be surprised.

This, right now,  is the time to surprise and be surprised.