But I will sing of Your strength
and will joyfully proclaim
Your faithful love in the morning.
For You have been a stronghold for me,
a refuge in my day of trouble.
Early this morning, I read the above verse. It spoke volumes to me. I should know by now in this journey called life, that when one specific verse leaps off the page at me and is heard as if being spoken by God's own voice into my heart, there is a reason. A specific reason.
I had an appointment with my radiologist this morning for my CT Simulation. I had my first consult with my radiologist back before Christmas and had an interesting reaction to the appointment. The words are hard to come by for an explanation. The first word that comes to mind is overwhelmed. My nurse and doctor both kept repeating phrases that set me apart from most of their patients. Phrases such as, "Most of my patients are post-menopausal." "I'm not used to seeing someone so young." "You sure you aren't pregnant or won't become so in the next few months?" "You're at an early stage cancer, which is unusual..."
Two forms of overwhelmedness (Yes, remember, a few posts back we agreed this was a word now even though auto-correct does not agree.) settled upon me.
Overwhelmed with the reality that I had cancer at age 41.
Overwhelmed with thanksgiving and gratefulness to God that I had stage 0 cancer at age 41.
With a 99% survival rate.
No total mastectomy.
This alone brings tears to my eyes every time I think of the awesomeness of this major detail of my cancer story.
I have to be honest, here. Not that I haven't been before now, but since that day in December, I have been a mess internally.
My focus is non-existent.
My motivation is borrowed.
My prayer life is strained.
I am weakened by the process, the probings, and the procedures.
As I was walking through the door again to the radiology building a second time, I felt the weight of the past 90 days.
Heavy, it settled upon my spirit.
It spilled out, for the first time in 90 days, in the form of tears.
While on the CT scanning table.
Slowing the process while my Dr. had to wipe my tears for me because I was not to move while in my positioning stage.
How do you spell vulnerable? (I just gave you a mental picture to help you out with that. You are welcome.)
Being marked up, scanned, soon to be permanently tatted with a dot of ink...it all became too much to contain any longer.
Too much for me. NOT too much for my God.
I do sing of His strength. I praise Him for His goodness. He is my Rock.
I hide in Him daily...I have no other option.
If you see anything other than a vulnerable, falling apart at the seams woman, it is because of my awesome God whom I love and try to serve wholeheartedly. Because of Him and His goodness alone. And for no other reason at all.
A dear friend told me that in my sharing of my weakness, God's strength is truly shown and seen. A walk with God that does not include vulnerable moments and times of weakness does not show the reality of a life with God.
We all have hard times.
Times of weakness.
Times where vulnerability defines.
That's when God shines. He shines out of the darkness of doubt and concern. He brightens the path ahead as it is needed. He provides His strength when there is none.
So, my friends. Here I am. Weak, yet strong.
But He said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for power is perfected in weakness.” Therefore, I will most gladly boast all the more about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may reside in me. So I take pleasure in weaknesses, insults, catastrophes, persecutions, and in pressures, because of Christ. For when I am weak, then I am strong. 2 Corinthians 12:9-10
God prepared me ahead of time for the rough hour(s) without me even being aware. I opened His Word and read as the Spirit led me this morning and was given the exact words that I needed to resonate with me in the difficult moments to soon follow. How awesome is that!?!
God is good...no matter what!