I read these words in an old Guidepost:
“There are times in all our lives when we seem to be looking down from the mountaintop, our hearts overflowing with joy: when we realize for the first time how much God loves us; when we step onstage to receive a diploma; when we set off to work on our first job; when we hold a newborn baby in our arms. Those are the times when praise and thanksgiving seem as natural to us as breathing.
There are other times, too when we seem to be looking up from the floor of a very dark valley: when we face illness; when we lose a loved one; when we’ve lost a job or failed a test; when we can’t find any good news in our daily papers. Those are times when we feel powerless, when prayer can be an effort and God seems far away.
But we know a marvelous truth: whether we’re up on the mountaintop or down in the valley, we are always in the hands of God.”
The day before my 60th birthday I was diagnosed with breast cancer. The call came just before my lunch hour and with tears streaming down my face; I left the office and headed home to my safe haven. It has been years since I have cried from the depths of my being. I sobbed for my children, for my grandchildren, for my sister and all those people who love me knowing how painful this news would be for them; and yes I sobbed for myself.
My thoughts went to my husband, who has been gone for 11 years. I recalled the day the doctor gave us the news of his cancer. I remember Lolly saying, “This cancer may take me but it will take me kicking and screaming because I am not done raising my family.” I echo his sentiments only I say: “I want to watch my grandsons graduate. I want them to escort me down the aisle at their weddings and seat me in that honored place next to their mother.” Those young boys are my four reasons for fighting. I covet your prayers as I prepare to do battle against this disease.