There’s a gritty, spunky flavor to a state fair. You park your car on a gravel lot and hear the crunch as you maneuver your vehicle amidst the strollers, small children, and couples walking hand- in- hand. Gritty because its dust leaves a distinct taste in your mouth. Spunky with its neon signs, audacious food choices “on a stick,” and people in all shapes, colors, and apparel choices.

If you’re looking for organic food choices…. do fried veggies sandwiched between two glazed doughnuts count?! We bypassed that bold choice and settled for an Amish food stand instead.  My man traded me the turkey sandwich and noodles that was absolutely dripping with meat for his chicken, carrots,and peas concoction.  We couldn’t find a table but the ground sufficed. And. It. Was. Delicious.

After eating, we ambled over to the animal barns. First up- the sheep.  They were MUCH larger than I anticipated.  After watching their handlers steer them to the ring to be judged, it struck me again why humans are so often compared to sheep in the Bible.  They are stubborn, vocal, and let’s just say not that intelligent. The handlers appeared to be firmly grabbing the sheeps’ rear as they corralled them. I couldn’t help but chuckle thinking that must be how God feels sometimes.  That one- right there- namely ME- needs a good, swift kick in the rear. 🙂

Next up, the dairy barn.  There were several  cows outside.  One sweet girl for children to try their hand at milking.  Man- what must that gentle cow be thinking to herself right about now?!  Further down the line, a very tired Mama Cow who had just given birth about 30 minutes earlier. Her baby had been whisked away somewhere to be cleaned up presumably.  But this poor mother was lying in the straw- her placenta and exhausted spirit displayed for all the world to see.  A nice breeze manufactured by an electric fan was pointed in her direction. I couldn’t help but wonder if she might prefer a little privacy right about now.

My man and I made our way back to the concert venue. What an experience- singing and worshiping with a thousand other Christ Followers to the music of Chris Tomlin!! What an emotional high. I envisioned my friend Kathy in Heaven- smiling and looking the way she did before cancer took up residence in her body. I wondered how God must feel hearing all of our voices raised in unison- PRAISING HIM.

My man and I filed out of the building and concluded that nothing could be more perfect than ice cream to cap our evening. We discovered several ice cream stands as we walked the midway, but my man wanted to retrace our steps back to The Dairy Barn.  He seemed very intent that The Dairy Barn must be our ice cream destination. We entered and stood in a long line of other adventurers. A lady about 5 years our junior approached and stood next to us.  She announced that she was looking for the shortest line. She liked my purse and mint chocolate ice cream a lot. It was going to taste real good. My man leaned over and whispered in my ear:

“I think that’s Janey. She lived a street over from me when I was in college. She greeted me every day with a happy-go-lucky “Hi Bob!”

Keep in mind my man and I were in college 30+ years ago. As the three of us drew closer to the cash register, I whispered “You could buy her an ice cream cone.”  And that’s exactly what my man did.

Our new friend was taken aback, insisted that she had money, and would pay us back.  The server handed her the coveted mint chocolate chip cone.  She looked at us and said, “My name’s Janey. What’s your name?” We introduced ourselves and my man quickly added that he knew her.  Janey looked startled and wandered away quickly into the crowd.

I suppose we may have frightened her a bit. First, we buy her an ice cream cone and then add that we knew her. The three of us broke every “Never talk to strangers” rule ever conceived.  I kept thinking about Janey as we drove home and later again the next day. I wondered why my man felt so compelled that only an ice cream treat from The Dairy Barn would do. I questioned why out of the three lines formed for those delectable flavors, Janey had selected our line. And why did she choose my man and I to engage with?

Maybe, just maybe, God was teaching us. Showing us that He engages with us daily- moment by moment.  If we see Him, if our hearts and minds are open to His Presence.  And perhaps he sent Janey to jog our memories and warm our hearts.

Isaiah 43:1-2
But now, thus says the LORD, who created you, O Jacob, And he who formed you, O Israel: “Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by your name; You are mine.”

Happy Anniversary!  The two year anniversary of my breast cancer surgery has arrived.  Actually, I’m looking at it in my rear view mirror now.

Initially I wondered: Should the anniversary be the date I found the lump, the date of my ultrasound that aroused  my suspicions, or the date of the phone call that confirmed my worst nightmare?  I decided not to go with any of those dates.  Honestly, that period of my life is a blur- a hazy cloud  of appointments, tests, and anxious thoughts.

So I chose the date of my surgery: July 3, 2013. A couple who came to the hospital to visit me the day after my surgery brought a plant with a tiny American flag embedded in its soil.  I still remember their words, “To celebrate your first day of being cancer-free.”  I would like to tell you that I smiled at my friends and embraced their sentiments.  Instead, I cried- a steady silent cascade of water flowing down my cheeks.  All I could think about was the loss of my breasts, the endless wait for the final pathology report, and that word, “CANCER.”

Twenty-four months, two years, 730 days have passed. I choose my foods more carefully, exercise more frequently, and live and love in the moment more extravagantly.  I show up for each blood draw, every chest x-ray, and all my follow-up appointments with “The Queen Bee.” At first, I felt like I was suspended in mid-air: waiting…  Waiting for bad news, waiting for words I didn’t want to hear, waiting for the proverbial “other shoe to drop.”

I am done waiting.  I don’t want to be “one of those people.”  A person who cannot fully live in the NOW because she’s living somewhere out in the nefarious land of “WHAT IFs…”

So, this girl is lacing both shoes up, pushing forward, and celebrating. July 3, 2013 has become my personal Independence Day.  A day of Freedom- freedom from breast cancer, freedom from living in fight or flight mode, freedom to make good things happen. And that “other shoe” lives securely in my closet with its twin.  Her name is…”Today.”

Galatians 5:1  :  “It is for Freedom that Christ has set us free. Stand firm, then, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery.”

April and May have come and gone. I have turned the calendar page to June.  Spring was but a brief dance as we await the slow, warm interlude of summer. It’s funny how sometimes things happen that are so precious, so important that we think the world must stop spinning.  Everyone should stand still and linger over the notes of what has happened.  Yet, the symphony keeps playing, the minutes tick by, the calendar pages turn, and we want to shout: “Wait!  Something beautiful yet devastating has happened!  Grocery lists and errands must cease.  Just sit with me in this sacred space. Please.”

I have a friend.  I had a friend.  No, I have a friend.  She has been a part of my life for 22 and a half years.  That’s almost as long as my youngest child has lived. My friend was kind, loving, funny, opinionated, and strong. She created beautiful dresses for my daughter and baked cookies from scratch that should have been marketed internationally.  I’m certain those cookies could have brought about world peace simply on their own delectable merits.

My friend loved God.  My friend loves God. She prayed for me, my kids, and she always thought of others’ needs before her own.  She was a wife, a mother, a daughter, a sister, a friend.

My friend was a fighter. My friend is a fighter. She sparred with cancer for nearly 18 years, and then somehow in the midst of her battle she made friends with her illness. She learned how to uncover Joy amidst the ruins of chemotherapy and Hope in the catacombs of radiation.

My friend was a thinker- a planner.  My friend is a thinker- a planner.  She harnessed her energy to find ways to leave pieces of herself behind for those who loved her.  E-mails, hand-written notes and cards, encouraging voice-mails, incredible hand-made quilts for grandbabies she might never hold.

My friend was a Jesus-follower. My friend is a Jesus-follower. She worshiped with a passion, a deep devotion that is uncommon- extraordinary. My friend never hesitated to use her story to point others to Jesus. She used her life, her circumstance to give God Glory.

I uncovered this e-mail treasure from her the other day. She sent it to me the summer of my breast cancer surgery.  I was stuck.  Stuck in a pit of sadness. She knew I was stuck and sent me a lifeline:

“Here’s a song for us to learn:

Hallelujah, Anyhow…

Never, Never let your problems get you down.

When life’s problems come your way,

Hold your head up high and say,

Hallelujah, Anyhow!”

My friend died. My friend passed. My friend lives. The world may not stop spinning.  We will still run our errands, balance our checkbooks, and hit the snooze button on our alarm clocks. But, deep in my spirit I know that an incredibly beautiful, devastating event took place.  My world shifted and my friend exited this temporal moment and entered the bliss of Eternity with Her Creator, Her Savior.

Yes, “Hallelujah, Anyhow…”

First the diagnosis, then the treatment plan, then the execution of said plan… But what happens when the treatment plan is finished and you enter the gray zone of maintenance.  What then?  Just like a fledgling athletic team needs a support structure, a core of passionate individuals who possess unique gifts and wisdom- you as a breast cancer thriver- need a team of people you can draw both strength and expertise from. Your team consists of several layers which when the layers are peeled back, you find that these layers are not linear- they connect to one another in vibrant, beautiful circles. The first layer is your spouse or significant person.  For me, that person was and is my best friend- my husband Bob.  This person will listen to you describe the minute details of your diet, the side effects of your medication, and your mental state without ever rolling his eyes or sighing in your presence.  Another vital person in this layer is a friend- someone you can tell your darkest thoughts to and they listen and never, ever judge.  They do not feel the need to speak- they listen, listen, and listen some more.  The next addition is a kindred spirit- someone who has walked this path before you.  They don’t sugarcoat any information and are neither startled nor embarrassed by anything you ask them. Your next concentric circle is your medical team.  The staff at your oncologist’s office- the receptionists, the nurse practitioner, and the doctor or “Queen Bee” herself, in my case.  These souls will take your phone calls, order blood work and tests, and make appointments so that you can hear the Queen Bee say, “That is a lymph node- not a tumor,” “Your blood work looks good,” “We can do an ultrasound to keep an eye on that,” and the ever welcome, “You are doing it!” Under this layer is your wellness team.  Your Pilates instructor, the boy at the gym who scans your ID card when you arrive to work out, the massage therapist, and anyone who will exercise with you and push you further than you imagined you could go. Connecting all the layers and circles is your Spirituality- your belief in a higher power, Karma, the Creator of the Universe- or whatever easy chair you choose to sink the weight of your life into.  For me, it is my faith in Jesus Christ and the knowledge that this- all of this- is temporary.  When I step out of this point in time into Eternity, I will no longer care if I ate 100% organic, exercised at least 5 days a week, or buoyed my spirit with only positive, light-filled thoughts.  In Eternity, my scars will be gone, my implants a non-issue, and my body completely restored.  Breast cancer will have evolved into the role of teacher- an instructor who offered life lessons that pushed me to question more, grow stronger, and love more deeply than I ever thought possible. But for now- in this point in Time- I can feel the spring breeze on my face, the warm sun on my skin, and the undeniable peace in my soul.  The grand sense of peace that I am feeling more confident, less fragmented, and surprisingly comfortable in my own skin again.  And that is a very, very good thing…

Labels…. they’re everywhere-  in the grocery store aisle, on the tag inside our favorite shirt, wrapped around that medicine bottle on our nightstand, and deep within our spirit.

So many labels that tell me who I am…  Wife, Mother, Daughter, Sister, Dog-Mama, Teacher, Friend.  Now I have a new label: Breast Cancer Survivor.  To be painfully honest, sometimes I want to rip that label off and hide it in a drawer somewhere.  My mind says that if I take the label off, perhaps this never happened.  But I have only to look in the mirror to know the label will not stay hidden in my drawer.  My scars tell me quite clearly where I’ve been.  But, they also tell me where I’m going.  I am going on.

I had my six-month check up with Dr. Brenda this week.  I received a good report, picked up my vitamin supplements, scheduled my next appointment, and got a refill on my Tamoxifen.  Bob and I celebrated our good news and I felt joyful.

A few days later I clicked on a newsletter filled with breast cancer research and I read and I read and I read.  I read about tamoxifen resistance, clinical studies, and gray statistics.  I clicked on article after article until I had spiraled down into the abyss of cancer knowledge overload.  I let myself wallow in the mud and mire there.  I felt stuck.  This is what my friend Lynn and I had worked so hard to deliver me from- the pit of negative thinking.

The voice inside my head berated me, chided me, scolded me for reading article after article and allowing my joy to be sucked down the internet research hole.

I was so disappointed in myself that I put on yet another label- negative thinker.  I went to my Pilates lesson with my spirit feeling choked- as if it would take great effort to exhale.  I was lying on the machine when Christina asked how I was feeling.  My eyes were closed and I could feel a little liquid behind my closed eyelids.  I did not want that water to escape.  I did not want to cry since I wasn’t quite sure what I would be crying about. I answered that I was feeling stressed.  Christina has a great voice and an even greater laugh.  She stood next to me and said,

“Breathe in and breathe out.  It’s going to be okay.”

It’s going to be okay.  Simple words that struck such a profound chord in my soul.  It is going to be okay.  I realized that I could rip the label – negative thinker- off.  It’s okay that I slid down into the mud momentarily- I wasn’t going to stay there.

I wasn’t going to stay there because I wear another label.  That label is “Beloved.”  I am a beloved child of God.  He is not angry or distant with me because I strayed from feeling joyful.  Instead, He scoops me up and just holds me in His Arms.  He laughs with me and cries with me.  He touches my scars lovingly and reminds me who I am- His beloved daughter.

I look at the word “beloved” a little closer and break it apart: be loved.  We all need to take these words and let them soak into our hearts, our souls, our spirits. Just be loved.  So the next time I feel my feet slip and start to slide down that muddy embankment, I will remember who I am…  I am beloved.

Calendars…  There is something magically delightful about new calendars, day planners, and datebooks.  Each empty page awaits new plans, ideas, challenges, and opportunities.  Looking back over the last year, my day planner tells a tale of milestones…

My last appointment with the plastic surgeon after my revision surgery.  I really grew to love that woman.  She would open the door to my exam room looking beautiful, hopeful, and interested.  Interested in not only how I was healing physically but emotionally too. As I thanked her at our last appointment, she smiled and said what an honor it had been getting to know me and my husband. Before she left the room, she turned to me and said, “Someday we’ll party together in Heaven and you will be a size Double D.”  She always made me smile, and I seemed to feel stronger when I left her office.

A year of blood tests with amazingly boring, normal results.  A year of visits with my surgeon, Dr. Brenda, and her staff. They became my friends- although we could have become confidantes in a much less painful way.

The year anniversary of my diagnosis and my surgery.  That date felt empowering and unbelievably peaceful.  The date of my chest x-ray- no more mammograms for me!  Hearing Suzanne, Dr. Brenda’s nurse practitioner, pronounce the x-ray to be “clean” is a date to circle.

A year of Pilates classes and therapeutic massages that soothed my muscles and my mind.  A year of talks with Lynn as I sorted through everything that happened. A year of swallowing 20 mg of Tamoxifen every day with lunch. The first pill taken with trepidation as I researched all that might go wrong because of this small, round medication.  A year later, it is taken almost without a second thought.

And now the last day of 2014…  I am preparing to put my 2014 datebook away.  My 2015 planner is smaller, more colorful, and deliciously empty of appointments.  This year is the beginning of my second year of being cancer-free, anxiety-free, regret-free.

May it be a year of loving extravagantly, forgiving lavishly, and living joyfully…

Happy New Year!!!