"If the stars were made to worship so will I. If the mountains bow in reverence so will I. If the oceans roar your greatness so will I. For if everything exists to lift you high, so will I."
-Lyrics from So Will I, Hillsong United.
She closed her eyes as she heard the words. The oncologist continuing through a lot of medical jargon that mostly made her heart just sink. Her daughter. Her mom. Her friends. How could she tell them?
Then the still small voice of the one who loves her more than creation itself whispered lyrics of the song over her heart. And a tiny ounce of strength was planted and would not stop growing. She had prepared for this her whole life. Quiet moments over coffee where she longed to be held by a husband she had yet to meet. Jesus met her there. A wedding she attended alone, Jesus met her there. In heartbreak, she leaned on her Rock, her high place, and Peace filled her to overflow.
She breathed again, not realizing she had been holding her breath as the doctor spoke. Cancer. And her heart yelled over the diagnosis in a rebellion against fear. "Ok Lord. I will. So. Will. I."
Months later that feel like a lifetime, the chemo is behind her. The transplant is 65 days past. Yet, she isn't herself. "Survivorship" studies are calling her for information and opportunities to participate. Yet, something is off and she's struggling to find her normal self again.
Her hair has not returned. Her physical strength has left her. But, she is a survivor. Even though she hasn't fully breathed into the newness of this new body yet. New cells, new hope, new chance. From the outside, I see her. I see her changed. Morphed. She isn't her old self. The woman she was before cancer is within her, but utterly different. Wildly more beautiful. Unsure, not yet steady, but from my vantage point, strengthened, renewed, healed, brave.
When we make the decision to proclaim Christ as our Lord and Savior, scripture tells us that the "old us has passed away and a new life is here (2 Corinthians 5:17). Yet, for most of us, the old life still beckons us to come. The old life still follows us in a way, into this newness. It takes time and bravery to walk one foot in front of the other away from old patterns that brought death and hopelessness.
This week, our boys released butterflies that we grew from caterpillars. We learned about their life cycle, fed them and watched them. From 10 caterpillars, two made chrysalis' and then only one became a butterfly (eventually another did join him). Judah, was observing his butterfly one morning and said, "Mom, he is brave." I asked him why he thought so, and he replied "because he became a butterfly and the other ones died."
This simple acknowledgement from my 3 year old spoke volumes to me. It takes bravery to choose life. It takes courage to walk through darkness, out of darkness, and into light. A caterpillar has no way of knowing that creating a cocoon around himself will lead to becoming a glorious butterfly. All he knows is that it is the next right right thing to do. A caterpillar simply obeys the call within himself to do the thing he was always created to do. Fly.
I see my dear friend as she wages war against being a victim of cancer. How she is steadying her legs to run free of what could have held her down. I see another dear friend take her childhood abuse by the neck and scream victory over her future as she bravely says "yes" to fostering a little girl. I see a young boy refusing to lie prey to the cultural lies telling him he has to be "true to himself", walking daily surrendered to His Christ. Today, may we say yes to the call. May we say, "I will" to the next thing. Bravely, unhindered, unsure, unsteady, released, free, called, capable, loved. May we shout "I will Lord!" louder than the enemies ploy to keep us cocooned in "safety". Even if we don't know what awaits on the other side, we can be sure of this. He is with us. And our butterfly wings may be awaiting our obedient "yes."
Love always,
Jessica
