I was thankful to get out of the hospital the first week in December.  I had spent Thanksgiving in there, and it was fine, but I was so happy to get to have Christmas at home with my family.

It was a harder adjustment being home than I thought it would be. I guess as I imagined “going home” from the hospital I imagined my life would look the same as before I left. I’m not sure why I thought that—- I didn’t really know what to expect I guess.

I got home, and I became severely depressed.

In hindsight, I know NOW that most of the depression was the prednisone (steroid) I was on. I was taking an insane amount, and I was never told how it could affect your mood.

I also found out later that suddenly stopping prednisone can cause severe depression as well. Well guess what, I suddenly stopped the steroid—-which was what I was directed to do.

I have been very careful not to go to google, but this is how I learned what could have been causing my depression. Just goes to show it’s very important to be your own advocate and be in charge of your own health. I feel for older people who don’t have the cognitive ability to share what they are feeling, etc. I watched my mom be such a great advocate for my grandmother in the end stages of her life.

Anyway, being home was very hard at first.

I was so, so weak.

It was a hard adjustment for my daughters—-I wasn’t up and lively like I was before. They hadn’t seen me like that. I feel 10 times better now than I did when I first got home in December. And for that I am so thankful to God.

I don’t think I can fully express the depression I felt from this medicine, and probably just the shock of the diagnosis as well.  I had felt I had lost everything. 

So much had been “taken” from me.  My brand new amazing job I had just started in August, my physical appearance, my energy, time lost with my daughters, the ability to be the wife I wanted to be, not be able to take care of my own children, how I felt physically—-it was just a lot.  

Up to this point, this post has been rather depressing, I know.  But it’s my story.  I’m not going to sugar coat things. 

I was so depressed that I barely had the energy to pray, or to worship. I hated feeling like that. I had never felt like that in my life. I had always been so close to God—to Jesus. How come now, when I needed to be closer to him than ever, I felt so distant?

Nevertheless, I persisted. I would speak scriptures and whisper the name of Jesus as I could.

I received so many cards and texts of prayers of encouragement during this time. 

And I really needed those.  I was often so sad I didn’t have the energy to respond to people. 

Life as a Christian isn’t always easy.  

In fact, we shouldn’t be surprised when hard things come our way.  There are countless scriptures telling believers that there will be trouble in this world.

Christians are promised many things, but we are NEVER promised tomorrow. We are also never promised an easy life.   

(I could dive deep into spiritual warfare at this point, but that’s another post for another day)

Just look at the persecution of the early disciples and the early church. 

Peter died on an upside down cross for the sake of Christ.

My ancestors in the early 1900’s in Appalachia had very rough lives—and yet they found Christ.

How Much Do I Really Trust God?

TRUST.

Have you ever had to REALLY trust God with your life? With your family? With your health, job, —- with the very number of your days?

I thought I trusted God—-until this diagnosis.  

I am learning to trust him more and more each day, but it’s not always easy.

It’s a process, a refining.

I fully believe I will live many more years, and share of the greatness of God for the rest of my long life—-but sometimes the enemy sneaks in and tries to scare me.  I can’t live the rest of my life in fear over whether or not I will relapse, etc.

I want to LIVE my beautiful life now.  I want to trust God with every single area of my life.  I want to live a free life now—and the only way I can do that is to trust God—-with each of my days that he grants me.  

I have to TRUST God that he will take care of my family and my girls—no matter what.

Again, none of us are promised tomorrow.

Tragedies happen.

Sickness happens.

Death happens.

Cancer happens.

I know not only from experience, but from every day I sit in this “chemo chair” and watch so many people around me also getting chemo.

There are so many hurting people. I hate getting chemo, just because I hate watching all the people around me. I feel for them—complete strangers.

The age old question is how can a “good God” let these things happen.  

I don’t know, I’ll never know, and I’ll never pretend to know.

But when hard things hit your family or your community—you begin to wonder, and question, why?

And I fully believe it’s okay to question God. It’s okay to ask him things, tell him how your really feel, etc.

He can handle it. He wants us to come to him!

All I know, that I know, that I KNOW, beyond a shadow of any doubt in my heart, is that Jesus is the son of God, that he died and rose again, and that he is seated at the right hand of the Father in heaven, right now.

He is not surprised by my diagnosis.

I have felt his presence and seen his hand in my life.  

I’ve had countless encounters with him that I know of his realness.

Maybe you’re reading this and you don’t know Jesus.  I would encourage you to try and pray.  

Ask him to reveal himself to you—-it might take some time, but he will.  

I wish everyone knew this same Jesus that I know. 

While I am no longer feeling depressed, some days are still very hard, and very dark.  Some days I cry.

But God is still with me, and has carried me up until this day, and he will be with me every day from here on out.

His presence will always be with me.

Whatever I face, I don’t have to face alone.

That’s a promise.

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