Thursday, April 12, 2018

Facing Deep Waters

Right now life feels like walking through a sea of peanut butter.  I went to the doctor this week and received the news that I have a lump in my breast.  My genes aren't great and I suffer from a syndrome that means that I will have cancer again and again. This reality makes sure that I always know that every day is a gift and that I've only received so many of these wonderful gifts.

A precious counselor once told me that I was the bravest person that she had ever met. Some chose bravery, others have bravery thrust upon them. I'm in the second group.

I'm gearing up for a boatload of tests. A biopsy and the very real chance that I'm about to go through major surgery and then some chemotherapy.  At the same time, I am trying to write a painful book about experiences as a young woman who took a wrong turn into a Christian cult. Where is the strength coming from?  I reach out my arms to the Logos.  I always get this image of me stretched so far that I entangle in the stars. I'm rooted there. All things are possible.

With this heartening vision, I bring to mind that my great faith that life everlasting is another gift that will come my way. (My hope is that gift is for all.)  

I remind myself this life is the seed part of existence, and that I will someday shed this corruptable person for one that is incorruptible. Then comes the work of calling out to the Logos for strength to face the deep waters of more cancer tests and a biopsy.  After my hard work, I leave my cares with the Logos and turn my heart, soul, and mind toward the task at hand, my book of faith.  

This is the story of my bravery. I hope that it helps you as you journey on. I will work on my next book as I am able. A wise person told me this would be my masterpiece. It is certainly a difficult book for me to write. The only things guiding me right now are the glimmers of light that guided my life before I saw better days.  

For everyone out there, learn to live with your story. Embrace it. Share it.  

A doodle. 

A quote for your pocket.

"Don't close your eyes, don't close your eyes,
This is your life." Switchfoot


Trudi Trueit said...

Molly, I am so terribly sorry to hear about your health challenge. I know you will face it with the same determination and fire that you do all things. I hope the knowledge that friends (like me!) are with you in heart and spirit bring, at least, a little comfort. And I think bravery is bravery, no matter how it finds us. You, my dear, are a brave and beautiful soul.

Janet Lee Carey said...

Molly. I am sending love and prayers to you as I read this and as I think of you in the days to come.
We've all heard the expression "wounded warriors." Those words come to mind, but I see you as more than this. It's not a war we fight. Some of us are forced into such darkness that all we can do is seek the stars. You've done this and do this. You are a pioneer of light. And as a pioneer of light, you guide others. I see you stretching out your arms to the stars. I hope you also feel the deep embrace, and closer in, my embrace. Thank you for your open writing to me and to us all.
You are so loved

Vijaya said...

Molly, I am so sorry. Saying a prayer right now. I'm glad you are going to keep on writing--it just might save you. I love you!

Faith Pray said...

Oh, Molly. I'm so sorry. I pray love and strength and light to you. Courage. Presence beside you, behind you, before you, and a keen knowing that you are never alone. That Love will walk this with you and in you. Peace. Victorious hope.

Unknown said...

Molly, Fight the fight. I will keep you in my prayers.