It Feels Like Hope

Mastectomy. It has an ominous sound. I'd always thought cancer and mastectomy would feel like a sentence to a concentration camp. But t
It doesn't feel that way at all. It feels like hope.

So much research has been done. So many women go through this. Medicine has made huge strides in this area, partly due to the pink ribbons and hats and t-shirts and all, that I used to consider silly.

No matter the ultimate outcome, God is there, steady and strong. I feel like I'm on a tour on a bus. God is the one who planned my itinerary. The tour guides on the microphone, taking turns at the front, are the health care professionals. They point out details and explain things as we come to them on the journey. I sit back, comfortable in my seat. I know that Someone wise and completely trustworthy planned the trip. He will take care of me every second of the journey.

As Isaiah 43:1-3 says:

Do not fear, for I have redeemed you;
I have summoned you by name; you are mine.
When you pass through the waters, I will be with you,
and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you.
When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned;
The flames will not set you ablaze.
For I am the Lord your God,
The holy one of Israel, your savior.

Our two-year-old granddaughter Grace had never seen a metal garbage can, except in one place- on Sesame Street. We pulled one out of the garage in which to put sticks from the yard. She bent over the can, looking for Oscar the Grouch, and said, "Where monster?"

That's how I feel about this scary walk I'm taking. Where's the monster? God holds me so securely, I feel calm, resting in Him. It doesn't depend on me. He's carrying it all.