Divine power needs no charging station or electrical outlet; divine power does not depend on a battery. We are the ones who need charging, so we need to plug into the nearest rest stop to make it happen.
This past weekend, I had two extraordinary experiences with two of my dearest friends in two of America’s greatest cities – my childhood BFF Liz in New York City and my college BFF Rochelle in Chicago.
I feel sick. My head is pounding and my stomach is unsettled. No, I don’t need to see a doctor. I feel this way because of the current state of our health care system. Yesterday, the Republicans unveiled a so-called plan to repeal and replace the Affordable Care Act (ACA) that has been in place for the past 7 years, also known as Obamacare. It claims that it will lower health care costs (for who?), bring down artificially high drug prices (again, for who?), and give people greater choices in selecting health care that meets their needs. Let me tell you about my own personal experience with the ACA over the past five years and you will see why I am so disturbed.
Being exceptional has been a hallmark of my mine throughout this journey. This is not just due to my four cancer diagnoses, which have already set me apart from anyone I know personally, but also because of how I have faced each new roadblock and prayerfully discerned the best ways to overcome it. At all times, I have been convinced that I can do all things through the Mighty One who gives me strength each day.
I am not afraid to admit that there have been many times on my cancer journey when I have questioned whether I was in fact marvelously made. After four separate cancer diagnoses, the seemingly endless prods and pokes over the years by countless doctors, and the many exams, tests, surgeries, recoveries and treatments I have undergone, I have asked the question what’s wrong with my body? Why does it keep getting cancer? Why can’t I just remain healthy?
I ask all of you reading this to pray with me that by Easter, also known as Resurrection Sunday, my physical body will be restored and show no evidence of cancer. That has happened before on this journey and I have full faith that it will happen again. I’m draining the swamp so I can get there.
Buffalo, New York was the setting of the first lap of my cancer race, and the Roswell Park Cancer Institute there held the baton during that lap, which lasted just under a year. Being a complete novice to the world of cancer, it was the doctors and nurses there who introduced me to its complicated terrain. The words of one physician in particular are still embedded within me to this day. He told me that as a result of my cancer diagnosis, I would now be receiving a plethora of advice and recommendations from numerous doctors. However, and these words were key, he stated that I did not have to do what any of them said. He let me know that this was my journey, and that I was ultimately in charge of making all the decisions pertaining to my treatment.
Cancer. What do you think of when you hear this word? When I was growing up, and even as a young adult, I never thought much about cancer at all. If I did think about it, it was because I’d heard about it in a movie, or on a television show, or somewhere far away. It had absolutely nothing to do with me or my life, or anyone close to me. On November 27, 2000, that forever changed when I was diagnosed with stage 2B breast cancer. I was 33 years old.