This past week has been… chuchi. I know that’s not a real word and you have no idea what it means. I’m not sure I can describe it well.
It’s a mix of appreciation for God’s beautiful goodness and a nearly overwhelming shift in how I do life moving forward from here.

It started Monday with a call from Doctor-detective Mac. (Not his real name). He had the results of my abdominal CT scan. The radiologist said there was nothing there. No mass whatsoever. Huh?? 🤔

So Doctor-detective Mac went to work. He consulted with the sonographer, and called a different radiologist to review the ultrasound results and compare them to the CT scan. Low and behold, that thing the other radiologist thought was my uterus (I don’t have a uterus), was actually the mass hanging out on my right ovary.

Doctor-detective Mac didn’t stop there, though. He took the results and conferred with an ob/gyn in the women’s center. The conclusion is ovarian cancer until proven otherwise. I get to have an MRI to learn further details this week.

I can’t begin to say how grateful I am that at the beginning of this year I felt a compelling urge to develop my relationship with God through the study of His Word. It has helped me learn to turn to him with a level of trust that I’d never imagined even possible.

Mr. Hot Stuff is amazing and strong and helping me stay focused on truth, rather than spin stories in my head that generate fear. He’s also been so supportive about me seeing a counselor for the last year or so and it helps me to have that strengthening resource already in place as I walk into this new unknown.

This week the two of us went camping in the beautiful mountains near us. It was a good chance for me to catch my breath and make sure Mr. Hot Stuff and I are on the same page moving forward. Spending time with God’s glorious creations helped me to find stillness.

Surgery is in my fairly near future, as well as a metabolic cancer-starving way of eating. The learning curve with that is huge, but I am confident that with God’s help, I can do it. I’ve done hard things before, and in some ways this has some of the same anticipatory nerves as a martial arts rank exam.

That’s how I feel when I’m trusting God.

When fear sets in, though, I feel like I’m standing at the edge of a high ravine and a storm has begun to pick up.

I’ve taken to listening to preachers on YouTube who quote scripture about putting our hope in God and remembering his promises to those who love him. It helps to keep my mind from what-if-ing my way off the edge of that cliff.

I’ve also been listening to the leaders of my church remind me that there is great power in faith and prayer.

I can’t see very far down this road, but if I can remember to hold the hand of Jesus Christ, I know that I will arrive exactly where he wants me to be.

As I read the Church’s Come Follow Me chapters this past week (Alma 17-22) I was struck by the realization that no one gets a life free of trouble or sorrow. Whether I am keeping God’s commandments or not, the rain will fall on the evil and the good. I can choose whether I walk through the storm with Jesus, or without him. I can choose what kind of person I will become under the pressure of the storm, and I can choose to hold on to the One who won’t let go.