Sharing the Moment

October 29, 2015 marked the 3rd anniversary of my breast cancer diagnosis. This is the story of the morning I was diagnosed.

It was a Monday morning as I sat alone in my van in a hospital parking lot. I was in a trance. I reached for my phone to call my mother and tell her the news of my cancer diagnosis. She would no doubt understand this feeling because she had cancer too.

My brain seemed foggy after hearing the word “cancer” at my annual mammogram. I guess when the radiologist walked in, I should’ve known. He wasn’t there to wish me a happy Monday morning. Mama had also heard those same words,“you’ve got cancer.” She will know exactly what to say to me.

I was able to refocus for just a minute and then the thought came to me. Mama is gone. We buried her three months ago. Oh, Lord, who can help me deal with this news? And why are you allowing me to have breast cancer now? I just lost my mom and my husband and I are separated. He had moved out of our home 14 days earlier.

I looked at the clock on my dashboard. Time hadn’t moved. I had an appointment at church in 30 minutes. Do I call and say, “I can’t make it today. I’ve got cancer.” Or I could say, “I can’t make my appointment. I’m separated.” That sounded weird. The cancer thing was a better excuse.

I thought quickly about calling my dad, but I couldn’t bear to give him this news. He was grieving. He had, after all, just buried his wife of 51 years a few months earlier. I knew calling him would be selfish on my part. God gave me clarity in the moment.

The longer I sat in my van, my brain became fuzzier. I didn’t know God let people have lives like this. I felt as though I was staring into black space. I was so alone in that van with no one to call. The pain I felt in my heart was indescribable. Tears poured down my face and I did not know what to do.

My mind bounced back to the church meeting. I better go because I had only been a member for a month. I wanted to make a good first impression. For all I knew, I might need to use this Church for my funeral. I better go and introduce myself.

I turned the key and started the ignition. I put my van in drive and made my way out of the parking lot. Now my mind was wondering why I had chosen this specific time to meet the Assistant Director of Christian Formation. The 15-minute drive would have to be on auto pilot. I was in a daze. As I entered the church office, I could barely think about my reason for being there. “I’m here to meet with Kathleen,” I told the receptionist. There wasn’t time for small talk. I wondered if my mascara had smeared down my face.

Kathleen escorted me back to her office. I sat down on her couch and looked into her eyes. Silence. Then, I burst into tears. “I’ve just been diagnosed with cancer,” I wept. I barely knew Kathleen, but it didn’t matter. She was the first person I encountered after hearing of my fate. She was the person God had placed before me at the biggest crisis of my life. Grief, divorce and cancer all coming at me at once.

Kathleen’s response seemed like a miracle to me. “I’m a breast cancer survivor. I can help you,” she said. I began sobbing. I collapsed into her arms as she hugged me. This hug was the hug from my mother. God had put the perfect person in front of me. What grace. He was faithful and He was going to take care of me through the cancer. I would find my rest in Him.

"Come to me, all who labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am meek and humble of heart; and you will find rest for yourselves. For my yoke is easy and my burden light." Matthew 12:28-30