Roller Coasters

I've been on an emotional roller coaster: up one minute and down the next, then a huge curve with a spiral loop that turns one upside down. When you get done, you're nauseated and not sure you made the right choice to ride the thing. Unfortunately, I don't have the option of getting off this monstrosity. I'm locked in for a undetermined duration.

I'd been looking forward to church for a few days; thankful I could hear a positive message and get some good prayer warriors surrounding me in agreement. But when it came down to less than an hour to go, I got the butterflies again. My normal private self dreaded seeing people who might know and might ask questions that I was unprepared to answer. It was James' week for 3rd/4th grade Sunday School, so I knew I would be without my brick by my side. I struggled for a bit, but gritted my teeth, tucked my giant Bible under my arm (couldn't find my little one for the life of me) and headed out.

It didn't turn out so bad. I was alone for the first bit, but sat there, with seats saved for my son and his wife, and just took in my church family as the sanctuary transitioned from one service to the next. I listened to the recorded music and closed my eyes, one minute hoping no one would come and accost me, and wishing someone would the next. I'd then berate myself for wanting the attention one minute or berating myself for wanting to hide away in a cocoon of isolation. Very weird emotional swings going on. Seeing my little grandson, Judah, is very good. I forget everything and focus on his sweet little face. He's such a sweet boy. He had on his Seahawks jersey and was sporting a mohawk fashioned out of his white/blonde hair with lots of gel. His little dimpled grin scattered away the darkness within fractions of a second. Judah makes it easy to forget.

The message today was very poignant. It was about slaying the giants facing you. Good word. Afterwards I went forward to Tom and Tedeen Franz (they'd been told by my sister the day before) and they prayed for me. I also spotted one of my dearest friends on earth and knew I had to tell her before she heard 2nd or 3rd hand. That was an emotional time. All the time she was being kind and full of faith for me, she was weeping. I took her into my arms, assuring her that I wasn't kicking the bucket any time soon. She knows, I know, but it was still an emotional time. We prayed together and parted, yet joined together.

One minute I'm full of faith, the next I'm not. One second it's as if nothing has happened, and then I remember and I spiral down. I'll go grab my Bible or encouraging words from a friend and then step-by-step move up again to where I can be positive, alert, and upbeat.

So by the time James found me, wrapped in the arms of my friend, my small Bible in hand (someone had handed it to him - I'd left it from the week before), we all hugged and agreed to battle this together. That's exactly what I know I need to do. I need all of you, agreeing with me, that cancer will not be the end of me; not now, not five years from now, not 20 years from now. Cancer will NOT be my demise.