Being known
I got my yearly mammogram yesterday. I've had them before. I've filled out pages of my family health history more times than I can count. I've honestly spent so much time in doctors offices and hospitals through the years that they have become a place I am very comfortable, and can even enjoy. Weird, I know. Yesterday, however I was on the brink of tears the whole time I was there.
I am the age my mom was when she was diagnosed with breast cancer; and should my mammograms keep coming back clear, and unless the Lord has other plans, in 3 short years I will outlive my mom. I will, from here on out, live a life she was stripped of. I will be able to run with my kids. I'll be able to make Boone's New Years Resolution of "More family hikes" happen. It wasn't too long into my moms diagnosis that she couldn't make it up the flight of stairs to kiss us goodnight in our beds.
I remember her sitting on the couch giving herself shots of the drugs that we hoped would heal her.
She did it with such grace. She always smiled, never stopped serving, and was incredibly intentional and thoughtful in how she prepared us for her death. She wrote journals and recorded herself reading to me and my little sister bedtime stories. She never wavered in her faith and she talked often of her Savior.
The day before I went to get my mammogram was January 7th. It's a day I have never had to mark down or try and remember. It was the birthday of my best friend. My parents were his godparents and I bought Jens a birthday present every year for, well, more years than I can remember. Jens and I were not only best friends growing up, our lives overlapped in every way. We were on the same swim team together and swam in the same lane for 11 years. We both made the decision to quit the swim team and pursue other dreams the same time. At that time it felt like a really huge life choice and we made it together. We went to the same church during childhood, traveled together, schooled together and one year we kept track of how much time we ended up being thrown together and we discovered we saw each other more that year than we saw anyone else, even more than some members of our family. He held my hand at my moms funeral. He dropped me off at the airport whenever I would go back to college after a break from school. Him waving goodbye to me is one of the last pictures I have of him. We never once had a crush on each other. He was my brother. My best friend. The kid who celebrated birthdays at my house, and he died.
When I lost him I lost my best friend, my childhood friend, my oldest friend. But I also lost my best connection to the home I grew up in and the town I loved and the place my mom lived.
I'm in a new phase of life. I'm married with kids and I have a fantastic life. I often look at my husband and think "we really are the lucky ones". But sometimes I feel unknown. I have a friend who, when she gets home sick, or dreams of "home", thinks about my house, not hers. That's how special of a place it was. My husband and children will never know it. When a smell, or the way light comes through a window take me back to home, I don't have someone who understands what I'm talking about. When I say "That color of blue reminds me of mom", I'm talking about someone they've never met. Sometimes I can feel like a part of me is lost. I can hear a song or think of a funny story, but the person who would have laughed at it with me isn't here anymore.
I was on the brink of getting lost in the feeling of loneliness or being unknown and it was if the Lord whispered. I know you. I made you. I know your trials. I designed them. Other people don't need to know your hurt. I know it. Cast your cares on me. I care for you. Cast your anxieties to me. I carry them. Comfort those who hurt like I comfort you.
What a relief! I mean I still cried the last two days and I still asked the boys for extra cuddles, but I had such a peace knowing and being reminded that My Lord cares for me.
" My Lord is a stronghold for the oppressed. A stronghold in times of trouble. And those who know your name put their trust in you. For you O Lord have not forsaken those who seek you."
Maybe sometimes you feel lonely or your trials make you feel unknown. I don't know your trial. But I know the God who does. Praying you seek him, and that he comforts you.
I am the age my mom was when she was diagnosed with breast cancer; and should my mammograms keep coming back clear, and unless the Lord has other plans, in 3 short years I will outlive my mom. I will, from here on out, live a life she was stripped of. I will be able to run with my kids. I'll be able to make Boone's New Years Resolution of "More family hikes" happen. It wasn't too long into my moms diagnosis that she couldn't make it up the flight of stairs to kiss us goodnight in our beds.
I remember her sitting on the couch giving herself shots of the drugs that we hoped would heal her.
She did it with such grace. She always smiled, never stopped serving, and was incredibly intentional and thoughtful in how she prepared us for her death. She wrote journals and recorded herself reading to me and my little sister bedtime stories. She never wavered in her faith and she talked often of her Savior.
The day before I went to get my mammogram was January 7th. It's a day I have never had to mark down or try and remember. It was the birthday of my best friend. My parents were his godparents and I bought Jens a birthday present every year for, well, more years than I can remember. Jens and I were not only best friends growing up, our lives overlapped in every way. We were on the same swim team together and swam in the same lane for 11 years. We both made the decision to quit the swim team and pursue other dreams the same time. At that time it felt like a really huge life choice and we made it together. We went to the same church during childhood, traveled together, schooled together and one year we kept track of how much time we ended up being thrown together and we discovered we saw each other more that year than we saw anyone else, even more than some members of our family. He held my hand at my moms funeral. He dropped me off at the airport whenever I would go back to college after a break from school. Him waving goodbye to me is one of the last pictures I have of him. We never once had a crush on each other. He was my brother. My best friend. The kid who celebrated birthdays at my house, and he died.
When I lost him I lost my best friend, my childhood friend, my oldest friend. But I also lost my best connection to the home I grew up in and the town I loved and the place my mom lived.
I'm in a new phase of life. I'm married with kids and I have a fantastic life. I often look at my husband and think "we really are the lucky ones". But sometimes I feel unknown. I have a friend who, when she gets home sick, or dreams of "home", thinks about my house, not hers. That's how special of a place it was. My husband and children will never know it. When a smell, or the way light comes through a window take me back to home, I don't have someone who understands what I'm talking about. When I say "That color of blue reminds me of mom", I'm talking about someone they've never met. Sometimes I can feel like a part of me is lost. I can hear a song or think of a funny story, but the person who would have laughed at it with me isn't here anymore.
I was on the brink of getting lost in the feeling of loneliness or being unknown and it was if the Lord whispered. I know you. I made you. I know your trials. I designed them. Other people don't need to know your hurt. I know it. Cast your cares on me. I care for you. Cast your anxieties to me. I carry them. Comfort those who hurt like I comfort you.
What a relief! I mean I still cried the last two days and I still asked the boys for extra cuddles, but I had such a peace knowing and being reminded that My Lord cares for me.
" My Lord is a stronghold for the oppressed. A stronghold in times of trouble. And those who know your name put their trust in you. For you O Lord have not forsaken those who seek you."
Maybe sometimes you feel lonely or your trials make you feel unknown. I don't know your trial. But I know the God who does. Praying you seek him, and that he comforts you.
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