Whew – I just made myself exceedingly dizzy. Really. Dizzy to the point of dazed and to making erratic mumblings along the lines of “I wonder if Gwyneth Paltrow is doing this right now . . . on a Sunday night . . . crunching her abs in hopes of trimming her waistline.” Did I mention the part about my being dizzy? Yes, I think I did. It’s been a long time since I’ve attempted any kind of a crunch, abdomen or otherwise. The only thing I think I crunched tonight was a vertebrae in my neck, all in the name of shedding an inch or two off of my middle before my son’s July wedding.
What a disaster . . . my body, not the wedding! I used to be in shape. Four years ago, I was clocking in 3-4 mile runs on a daily basis. This discipline compensated for any overeating I might have done and kept me at a consistent weight, able to fit into the wardrobe in my closet. Alas, my running days are now over, and in the course of these last three years, I’ve let myself go. My once, disciplined regimen of exercise has whittled down to walking 4-5 days per week. Walking is great for the heart, but it’s not enough to prevent extra layers of warmth from collecting around my middle.
This is a loss. This is my reality, and I am disappointed with myself . . . again. What happened to the spirited, disciplined, highly motivated gal who, up until a few years ago, was healthy, happy, and on the fast track with her future?
Apparently, she went away, went in to hibernation in that cabin way back up the mountain where people often go when loss comes around. I want her back. I really want her back. I don’t think she’s too far off, just hidden. It may take me some time to find her again, but I know she’s out there, and she’s expecting me.
This won’t be just a physical search; it will be a spiritual one as well. Other things beyond the flesh often go into hiding when loss comes around. The spirit and soul of a person . . . they, too, often choose retreat when life takes an unexpected turn down an unwanted path.
I want to tell you something, make as honest of a confession I can make: Every day since cancer, August 23, 2010, I’ve made a choice for life. I’ve gotten out of bed, regardless of my feelings, and made the decision to walk the day through. Every blessed day, I’ve said “Yes” to living and to living the day with Jesus. This single, deliberate choice has kept me. Simply and profoundly kept me.
This has been enough grace, enough faith to tether my heart to expectation despite the fact that, most days, I struggle with my realities—the physical ones I see in the mirror and the emotional ones I feel in my spirit. But I keep going, because I have Jesus, and I hold to the firm belief that my best days are ahead of me, not behind me. I don’t know what this will look like in the days to come, if the layers around my middle or the layers around my heart will decrease. But to that end, I am making a commitment because . . .
I want her back. I really want her back. With God’s help, I’ll find her again. Together, he and I will bring her down from the mountain and set her soul and feet to dancin’ . . . at a wedding.
I’ve got some work to do, friends, so I’d better get busy. Keep choosing life with Jesus, every single morning when you wake up. Keep choosing rest with Jesus, every single night when you lie down. Jesus, Jesus, Jesus. He is our only hope for better days ahead. As always . . .
Peace for the Journey,
I will be taking time off from blogging here to work on some writing projects. I hope to feature some guest posts from some special friends. If you’d like to be in touch, feel free to send me an email by clicking here. I still have some copies of Beyond Cancer’s Scars and Peace for the Journey in my mudroom if you’d like a copy; click here to learn more.You might also like...