Yesterday (8/28) was the 17th anniversary of my first cancer diagnosis I was nineteen and had lost my younger sister only three years prior to her own cancer.
It was August 28th, which brought me such solace. Good Christian girls have life verses and mine was Romans 8:28– we know that all things work for God for those who love God and have been called according to God’s purpose….
I felt so lucky to have journeyed alongside Ellen, to have witnessed what true Joy and Goodness look like. Her courage, faith, and humor overpowered death on the daily. She cried and wailed a lot, too. Same. When it was my turn, when they hooked me up to infusions and removed my tumors and irradiated my tissues, I prayed to her—Saint Ellen.
God had abandoned me, but my sister hadn’t.
It makes people very itchy when I talk about God and Goodness and Love and all of it. I wish I could make my faith fit into whatever pages and places bring them comfort. When I say God I mean Love. When I say Good I mean all of it. I mean cancer and sex and scar tissue and assault and death and life and bombs and the sound of ripe apples thumping on the ground just outside the living room windows.
It takes work to make something become Good, that’s what I call Goodhardgood. The ability for Hard (hell) to become Good is directly dependent on our willingness to be wrong about God and the pages and places we claim S/He dwells. I see God at the edges, just out beyond the property line, waiting for us to journey further out into the unknown. How expansive a faith do you desire? That is the one God will grant if you’re willing to be wrong about everything. It becomes Good when we make it Good, and that’s the hardest work there is.
It costs everything. But you will be grateful. And your gratitude will save you 100% of the time.
I have four kiddos now, each of them a genuine fertility miracle. None of them is dying of brain cancer
or lymphoma. I have a warm and fun man with a warm and fun body, I fall asleep in his arms almost every night. My nieces love my children, I reconciled with my dad after 20 years, and my siblings make me smile. I also have C-PTSD and hints of BPD, loads of scar tissue that can derail me on harder days, and a tendency to create more drama than I know what to do with. Good and Hard, like I said.
All things have worked for Good, I hate to tell you. Just yesterday I flipped God the bird, with both hands, because…well, take a look around. I could barely make out the silhouette, but I knew it was God, out there—just beyond the fence posts. Am I brave, desperate, and curious enough to follow out toward the setting sun? I believe I am! Will it make people itchy? I believe it will! Will I cry lots? Yep! Will I smile often? You bet. You wanna come?