Peace Like a River

Today’s the big day.  We meet with the oncologist for our initial consultation.

And I am totally at peace with whatever will be.

Now, that doesn’t mean I don’t have my moments.  I definitely do.  I have moments where the inside of me is all twisted up like a big bowl of spaghetti noodles and my heartbeat resonates from the top of my head down to my toenails and I have to remind myself, “Breathe in, breathe out” all while maintaining a calm exterior.  Moments when I am nearly overcome with panic and fear.  A moment like now, which explains why I’m awake and blogging at 5 A.M.

I also have moments of extreme sadness, for the possibilities that lie ahead.  Moments when the tears fall freely as my imagination runs wild and I see snapshots of days to come: the thought of losing my husband, of my children growing up without their dad.  Days of celebration that are incomplete.  Or, on a lesser scale, the horrors of chemo and radiation: the physical side effects, the sickness, the hair loss, and even the lingering physical changes.  Moments that make me grieve over what could be.

I’m thankful to say that because of the intercessory prayers of many of you, and by the grace and strength and comfort of God, neither of those moments are the norm.  Rather, even as I type I feel my spirit being filled with absolute peace.  Peace that definitely passes any human understanding.  Peace that allows me to live life normally, and function normally, despite the uncertainty of the future.  Peace that allows me to talk about what we’re going through without falling apart.  Peace that helps us face reality with humor and strength.  Peace that gives me the confidence to know that no matter how God chooses to heal Matt – and God WILL heal him one way or another – everything will be okay.

I’ll provide an update tonight following the appointment.