We’ve all had them: bad days, good days, “dog days” - you get the idea - but this past week I’m celebrating one my most extraordinary “days to remember”.
On October 28, 1992 I sat in a doctor’s office in Regina, Saskatchewan and listened to his pronouncement: You have colorectal cancer. I don’t recall the rest of the conversation and I wasn’t sure who seemed more anaesthetized, him or me.
Unlike other times, that day I was immediately ushered into his office for my appointment. Usually I sat and waited but that day the schedule was so “on time” that my husband hadn’t even returned from parking our vehicle. After stumbling from the office I headed for the parking lot and met hubby partway between the two locations. I think he knew the prognosis before I uttered a word; I just know that tears streamed down both our faces as we began our 90 minute drive back home. While he remained silent, I found myself singing, whether to myself or out loud I honestly don’t remember, Psalm 104:33/34 “I will sing to the Lord as long as I live; I will sing praise to my God while I have my being. May my meditation be sweet to Him; I will be glad in the Lord.” How long I had left for singing was unknown.
Without dwelling on the months of treatments and the years of complications I’ve endured, I can say with all my heart, that day was one to remember. I realize this is a different sort of piece but above everything else, I treasure the lessons I’ve learned in how to trust Him during these extra twenty-five years. My heart goes out to those individuals and families who have not been as fortunate and while I don’t understand, I know He loves you.
