Incongruent Provision

Lamentations 3:22-23
“Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail.
They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.”

For the past six Saturday mornings I have been put into a very difficult position. And it has been by choice. It causes me pain. I am often too cold. And my hips hurt. My back complains and I am tired beyond explanation. I feel uncoordinated and completely clueless

And. I. Feel. Blessed. And I love it. 

Because for the past six Saturdays I have come alongside many warriors and givers who have become sisters and brothers to me. And their faithfulness. Their giving spirit. Their indefatigable strength is an inspiration and makes me want to cry with joy and laugh in victory. 

Let me explain. 

It just so happened that I was chatting with a neighbor back in December who commented on my crazy curly over the top thick hair. 

This is a post condition of losing all of it to 192 hours of chemo treatment – and 36 days of radiation. When my hair decided to reappear – well it’s kinda a cross with Albert Einstein and Lucille Ball. I. Have. HAIR. A lot of it. And it is an unusual colour and strangers stop me and ask. Seriously. 

But this neighbor – whom I never met before – didn’t ask. She noticed “the sign”. As she too is a cancer survivor. It’s a language. An instinct. We just recognize each other. 

She initiated the conversation and went on to tell me about a Cancer support group called Friends After Diagnosis. And let me tell you – I have rarely felt so loved. ACCEPTED and welcome amongst strangers in my life. 

These warriors. And givers. Are one and the same. And my neighbor warrior invited me to learn how to row as part of this group.

FAD offers all kinds of support. From wigs, meals, to counseling, ride support, to free healthy activities like yoga, equestrian classes and CREW! 

Today, I “graduated.” along with about 8 other women who – some like me who have begun the healing journey – and others – are in the middle of treatment (they are absolute studs btw for even showing up). 

As a member of an 8 “woman” boat – “4th bow was my position” we were able to row several miles of that precious river – and as we did – we played with dolphins – partied with pelicans and rolled with a few wakes that were sent our way.

And as I sat in that boat – rowing to the rhythm of my mates – I was struck so hard with the incongruity of God’s provision. 

It was February 2023 that I was diagnosed with cancer. 1 year ago this month. 1 year ago when I faced my own death. One year ago when I started treatment. I put poison in my own body. And I succumbed to the worst physical, mental and emotional pain I had ever experienced. 

If anyone had told me – in the middle of those scary dark nasty fearful and trying times – that a year hence I would be surrounded by the stunning beauty of a morning river, that my body would be building to health again. That I would have beat this bastard of a disease, that I would be slicing through the brackish river of a Florida coast line with 7 other sisters – well – I would have told you that you are delusional. 

Yet God. 

His faithfulness is unmeasurable. His love unfathomable. His gifts without measure. His mercies so sweet. So precious. That there ARE NO WORDS TO WRITE. 

Out of the darkness. The pain. The poison. The loss. Out of the worst. He sends the best. 

His mercies. His love. HIS compassions never fail. They are new every morning. 

In the middle of loss – He renewed me. New friends. New strength. New healing. I am so so so humbled. Thank you Lord. For in the middle of and after diagnosis – you have supplied me FRIENDS. And these ladies. They are strong as an oak. Kind as a dove. And as raucous as as a storm. They. Are. Warriors. 

And now. I am too. And cannot wait to get back on that water. 

Amen. And amen.