In honor of those who are still fighting

The end of October is nearing. It has been three months since I was told that I am cancer free. Life seems to be moving on. The plans that were derailed are back on their tracks and chugging along. My body is feeling better. My hair is growing back. Even the foods that I abhorred so much because of the chemo are slightly tempting for me. (Except for the Taco Bell. Those commercials still make me nauseous.) However, for as much of me is moving on, I feel like it has been during these last few months that I have really had to reflect on what the Lord brought me through. It comes to me in spurts. During those hard six months, we just had to keep going, sometimes moving from one hard thing to the next without having the chance to contemplate all that was occurring. Now is the time of contemplation. This does not been a constant dwelling on myself or my story and certainly not a pity party. These few months have been a great contemplation, reflection, and perhaps new realization. There have been moments of repentance, humility, and, most certainly, praise.
October is Breast Cancer Awareness month. There is pink everywhere. I went through a quirky pink phase as a senior in high school and I am afraid that it is not completely gone. I am attracted to the pink t-shirts, the pink ribbons, the pink icings, and especially the pink Swiffer. However, this month holds more meaning for me beyond my lingering affinity for pink. It reminds me that, although I did not face breast cancer, I have faced cancer. I remember what it was like to be scared in the doctor's examining room. I remember what it felt like to sit on the examining table and feel cold and fragile. I remember the dripping of the chemo medications. I remember the weakness and forgetfulness. I remember the hairs falling. I remember the radiation. I remember.
I remember. However, there are those who are still living this reality. For those that are still fighting, I am praying for you. I am praying for comfort. I am praying that you will hear the doctors say the same words that were said to me, "you are cancer free." Most of all, I am praying that, even though it may feel like you are living a nightmare, you will see that there is a God who provides grace and eternal salvation. He provides comfort. He gives healing, if not in this life than in the eternal life that is to follow before his throne in heaven. He loves you and wants you to have a relationship with Him so that you may be truly satisfied in Him.
I remember staring at myself in the mirror, looking at the lump that was lying below my skin. It amazed me that something inside was my greatest danger. And I could not eradicate it on my own. If left unchecked and unaltered, it would lead to death. Cancer gave me a picture of sin. Like my cancer, it was my greatest danger and would lead to death. I was helpless on my own. But how great the impact of my doctor's words that there was a cure. Suddenly I realized what a great gift I had been given. Your cancer may not have a set and definite cure. However, Christ's death on the cross was the definite cure for our sin. With Him there is surety. We must repent of our sin and turn and surrender to Him out of trust and thankfulness for this great gift. Hearing that there was a cure for my cancer was good news. However, the power of the Gospel, that there is salvation from sin, is truly Good News.
October is about to pass. Soon there will no longer be as many pink labels on the store shelves. Soon I will not cry every time I cut out all of the pink ribbon coupons. However, there will still be those fighting. I will continue to think about you all. I will continue to pray. I will continue to marvel how God can use even a disease as horrible as this for His own purposes and glory.