“It is costs you your peace it is too expensive”. ~ Toby Mac
And there it was a number overly recognized on my caller ID. We had just prayed with the knowledge I had ripped all of my stitches that held my tissue expander in place, and tore my muscle that my last breast cancer surgery would be moved up.
That ring was God answering our call, we had changed the date several times. We just moved so that became priority, then I just way over did it. Me! Anyone who knows me knows that is just how I work. I wanted so desperately to get my home all decorated, and settled in. Well that is all done, I am fresh out of excuses. As well I am very uncomfortable to say the least. Sleep is hard, and my left breast is discombobulated. It moves inside a little too much for my liking. So of course I said yes. God heard our cries.
My surgery for my breast implants is December 21 at 9 a.m. So I am getting new boobies for Christmas. I am nervous mostly with all of the Covid cases, but I trust God as my ultimate surgeon. As well my oncologist put me in the hands of one of the best plastic surgeons in our city. I expect the best outcome. Yes it is not natural, but at 46 it was the best decision for me. I couldn’t imagine having no breasts. We thought about every option, and every route woman take when given a double mastectomy due to Breast Cancer.
I woke to a disturbing private message begging me not to do this. This lady quoting “she is saving my life.” As if I haven’t done all the research on the pros and cons of Breast Implants. As well I have a very complex makeup. I have had numerous surgery related complications, and allergies as well. My surgeon is very well aware of my previous hardships. So to say I was a little put off by her unwanted opinion is an understatement. I don’t wish to start any morning off with a lack of Serenity. Yet there I was, feeling like who does she think she is? I was angry, and put off. I got emotional. I allowed her to take my peace, just for a minute.
Immediately my husband, and I went to prayer. We together asked God to intervene. I can’t afford to have my Serenity be upset, nor be in fear and not faith as I am readying for such a huge change in my life. I am so grateful I know when my spiritual house is disturbed. So now my heart is back on track, and we have a lot to do before my surgery to be ready for our Christmas.
Thanking God today who always keeps me on the right path to the next right thing. Thanking God for hearing our plea to up the date. He is so faithful!
I love the LORD, for he heard my voice; he heard my cry for mercy. Psalm 116:1
Written for Citysonett Photo a Day: November 27: solitude
Life with God is not immunity form from difficulties, but peace in difficulties ~C.S. Lewis
Oh Lord when my life became yours I know I illumated the morning sun. Every beam that sprung from it. Rays of hope, grace, mercy, and love all from thee above. Attributes
Oh Lord when I became yours I know that my gait was audacious for you were at my right side. I wanted everyone to see your love in me, spilling from every chasm loves light. Bestow
Oh Lord when I became yours I shed my old skin, and was clothed with honor, dignity, and strength within. Redeem
Oh Lord when I became yours you made me a display, you the potter and I clay. Into the kiln, refiners fire my hearts one desire. To know
Oh Lord when I became yours my smile was from ear to ear, and rapturous was my new found love, bold for all to behold. Take witness
Oh Lord when I became yours it was that of a new birth. My soul longeth after thee, and to emit from within. Forgiveness
For there is no greater love known to man than to lay down one’s life for his friends. John 15:13
Now how could a love like this not radiate all across the land, such sweet fragrance in that of my potter’s hands. Mold me, make me, take me. With these hands I lift in praise of you the potter, and I the clay. Adhere
Oh Lord when I became yours it was thee I adore, my heart yours for the taking. Breaking my old from self, so I can now break bread with you. Remembrance
Take me, Mold me
Use me, Fill me
I give my life to the Potter’s hands
Hold me, Guide me
Lead me, Walk beside me
I give my life to the Potter’s hand Hillsong Worship
The phone rang, and I saw the number as it rang in my hand, okay here it is. “Can I speak with Lisa Boyd please”? I knew I had to be cordial, my character is consistent with that of grace. On this day I admittedly was battling the inward struggle of being poked, prodded, and stripped down to my bare body of awkwardness.
Swallowing back the nightmare of that cold sterile table, I knew all to well I would soon not by my choice be bottoms up. I barely managed a muffled “this is she”. All the nurse spoke on was all in one ear, and out the next. I had been here so many times I could not even count on both hands. I had the nurses script memorized by heart.
So…no deodorant, hairspray/gels, jewelry, makeup, anticoagulants, no shaving my armpits, yadda yadda…
I was just so exasperated by the three for one special I was getting. Three different spots of concern, and three totally specific yet distinct biopsies. Three all in one swell swoop, woo-hoo where does one sing up for these things (with much cynicism)? Good grief, none of this was working well with my heart. I could not play this off with as much mockery as I had wanted. It was eroding me from the inside out.
My attitude was quite disconcerting one of injustice all most. I had a how dare they think they can do this to me mentality. That was when God brought me to a place of not forgetting where I came from, how far He by His grace He had brought me. At this point in my 46 years here on earth I was given the gift of sobriety six and a half years before this new found for me inconvenience. This was a disturbance in every way to what was my life now, it was tragic. It was uncomfortable, and I had no peace. All I felt was a lack of serenity.
It was what is called “life on life’s terms”. I had the ability at this time to have a unified faith in God that He had every part of my story already written. He was the author, and as well the ultimate surgeon. I had the qualifications in this time to pray that God would reveal His very presence to my weary soul. I had an uncanny way of analyzing the tripe out of everything if I was not God conscious. I could not afford at this time to be there, I had to “keep it simple”. I had to have a United front with God, one that took away my instability. I knew the key to my tranquillity was willingness, and with that surrender would follow suit.
And there it was, “God grant me the serenity to accept the things I can not change, courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference”.
The day of my appointment had arrived, and so we went. We were hand in hand tightly gripped my husband and I. Praying our way through the whole drive. We arrived at my biopsy appointment before the roosters crow. I undressed down to nothing. I laid down on the cold sterile table allowing the nurses to posture my body in all sorts of cumbersome ways. I didn’t like any of it, and I wished I did not have to be there with one breast hanging through a hole cut in the table. I wished I was not going to be poked, and prodded, and my breast was not going to be manipulated by hands that weren’t my own.
My three for one special that did have risk of infection, and hematoma’s had begun. I could feel the numbing needle, as well the dripping of my own blood as the vacuum was being placed for the first biopsy. I laid as still as one could lay, like a corpse. My heart though was beating to the beat of my makers, I was so alive with the spirit of my loving God. I was at peace.
Hours passed, I was washed, and bandaged up. I was given ice packs, and at home care instructions. I proceeded with a little help to dress. I was wobbly, and painfully walked to the waiting room, where I reached for my husbands hand. We walked out hand in hand tightly gripped. Linked to our God as we now had a grueling wait of the results. Our journey of surrender had only just begun. “One day at time”, we were drawn into God consolidated in our prayers. We were three, a triple braided cord bound by His grace.
Though one may be overpowered, two can defend themselves. A cord of three strands is not quickly broken.
Written for: word-challenge-of-the-day-United