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Thanksgiving

It is either a cyst or the cancer is back. I found it, but my heart is ungrateful. More information after a biopsy and days of waiting.

Immediately, I feel empty. I pray but wonder if my prayers are heard. They probably are. After all, I am a child of God. After all, if I belong to God, he hears me. I certainly can’t go by feelings which are like clouds—light, dark, moving slowly across the sky. Still, I am winding through the dawn dark.

Where health, safety, and living life are concerned, I normally take no chances. I pray. Walking in darkness is too hard on my own. I know a little of the Word and quote it back to God, but it feels like gravel in my mouth. I ask others to pray for me, to pray that I have a benign cyst. Specific prayers. A friend said she’d do it, but that she’d never before prayed for a cyst for anyone. I am desperate and need God to intervene, to help me, to minimize my trouble, to be part of this, to be part of each doctor’s visit. Two days later, I find fullness, sleep, and peace but have no concrete answers.

At the end of the week, I hear the results: a benign cyst! I clap my hands over my mouth. I cry, I laugh, I cry. God is goodness. Where did the rocks in the mouth come from? Must have been a lie from Satan. Scriptures say: Man does not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God. (Matthew 4:4)

Today, I am thankful even for the dark, troubled times. It occurs to me that new life comes from the dark places: womb, black earth. Even Easter (new life) came from dark Calvary.

My pain, my darkness is transfigured from grief into grace. I need to see this more often, where I lean into Jesus for comfort, where I whisper thanks to God, where I invite Him to walk with me in the dark places, where I see that God is good, and I am loved.

Lord, now that this is cleared up, I say thank you again. I also ask: Would you give me eyes to see deeper, more clearly?

Photo by Pat Durmon, on River Ridge Road, Norfork, Arkansas. November 2016.

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