11th hours. They tend to be a space where extreme stress lives. I’m a planner so between loving being organized, as well as feeling like I have control over my life…. 11th hours have simply not been my happy place.
Sometimes the things we don’t like about our lives, ourselves or a situation can make us so dead set on flipping the narrative that we not only change the story, but we change our life. In changing yourself you change everyone around you and as as result their stories also become better.
Last minute things cause panic in me, deadlines not met days prior bring stress. 11th hours have always meant last chance, last moments, time to inner freak out now. Then something unexpected happened. Jesus, as it turns out really LOVES to hang out in 11th hour moments.
He knows that in this space that when the impossible happens…. It is only because of Him and credit stands tall and salutes were credit is due. Foolishly I think I find other places to give praise in those first 10. When you get used to Him showing up in this space of uncertainty, you learn to wait differently.
It’s 1am and I found myself suddenly awake. Pain. It grips you in a way that panic can set in while you try to breath. This goes for purpose too. Tonight though as I whispered, “please Jesus”… an new instant peace cuddled into me. There was a knowing that in this moment someone else was already awake praying for me. In this moment I knew I could rest.
Nights have always been a space where I live in another dimension- dreaming endlessly. My health journey has interrupted the magic of dreaming, both metaphorically and in actuality. Tonight as I pulled up my blanket I was able to instantly calm my fear, and I felt your love. I opened just one of your letters and I smiled realizing that for some, being strong is when they finally ask for help. The blankets of friendship is a beautiful gift. When panic is overcome by peace… miracles suddenly have meaning.
11th hours are still unnerving, but are also kind of exciting as I really love seeing how God is going to do the impossible. You all being there for me in this storm makes the rain feel less heavy. 11th hours hold magic when fear is overcome by impossible. Sometimes chaos can create change. Sometimes it is courage. Whatever it might be for you, I hope you always trust in the magic of 11th hours.
Here are a few photos that bring back some of mine…
Hello beautiful friends. It has been awhile. There have been many seasons I stopped posting because my world felt so beautiful that I simply didn’t know where to start. Other times though, it’s because my story started feeling heavy and that’s hard to face and hard to share. Sometimes though transparency means that somebody gets help or hope or answers and in this space, if I can make a difference for even one person… then here I am. What matters the most: the kids are all thriving! Isaiah and Gabe are 16 years old, over 6 ft tall and driving! They are juniors in high school, are involved in our church’s youth group and in all other ways still as opposite as can be. Gabe is working and Isaiah has picked up guitar. Leela is 13 years old and is living her best life with an amazing friendship tribe, varsity volleyball and a singing voice that is breathtaking. These three are my everything. I hold endless chapters of love for them and yet, my brain gets stopped every time I go to write about them as fear takes a hold of me.
6 months ago(3/28) I was diagnosed with breast cancer and that was and still is extremely terrifying. The day the doctors told me it was cancer they also said I wouldn’t live past summer. That right there was the deepest hell hole I’ve ever experienced. The anguish, the brokenness, the shock, the isolation, the despair of knowing ‘they’ need me longer. In that place there is no light. No hope. You are just very very alone. In that pit of hell I called out begging for prayers and help and promises that my kids will always be loved and looked after. There is a long explanation of how this type of cancer is rare, but in a simple terms- this type is lobular which is hard to find, and mostly only found long after it has been there for years. They believe it has been in me for 6 years. (5/6) I endured a double mastectomy and auxiliary lymph node surgery. Oncologist after oncologist told me that the surgery findings would be way worse than they had already thought. I wondered how the results could possibly be worse, yet, still I felt enormous peace to go forward with the surgery. The results show Jesus heard the relentless prayers of so many, listened and said “not yet.” There is hope for life, for a future, for more time, more memories… just more. Thank you God. I will forever thank you! Having 2/3’s of my lymph nodes removed led to lymphedema(arm swelling) and severe cording. Between the surgery and aftermath I had what looked like T-Rex dinosaur arms for a very long time until the cording released and function returned. Not being able to move my arms was difficult for sure, but not being able to hug my people was a harsh daily reminder of my world getting smaller. Thankfully repetitive physical therapy has allowed me to have arm function again. I was blessed with friends who would brush my hair, fly out to take care of me, get my daughter ready for her dances, took my kids to and from school and cheered extra loud for my kiddos when I couldn’t be there. Recently I finished daily radiation. The burns are fading enough to not be all consuming. The radiation caused radiation pneumonitis (lung damage), but is slowly healing. I have what I hope to be the last major surgery this Friday (10/11). So many people said this year was going to stretch me, push me, and exhaust me and so far that is the gentlest way of putting it.
So many have come into my storm to show me it can be overcome. They assure me me that there is a way out, because they too were once in a similar fight. My brain and heart could only process so much in order to survive each day. It felt like fire was burning all around me and I couldn’t breathe or think or function. Yet, in this fire, I could see shadows of angels nearly unrecognizable. They were regular women in their mom jeans, arms extended with mascara running down their faces saying, “Here let me hold your hand and help you. Here is a quote, a song, research, a prayer of more life and miracles”. Jesus whispered to my soul that they too felt weak at one point, yet experienced their miracle and were transformed into warriors. They came into the fire and my pit of hell and offered their hands and heart to me. But Why? Why would they (many of which strangers) ever go back thru the horrific trauma they endured to open up their wounds again…and for me? They said it was so that I could see that healing was possible and was coming. Could I do that? Nobody would choose this path for anybody… but to go back into a nightmare to show someone else there is a way out… these women did not even hesitate. In that space they lifted my eyes to see a God I didn’t understand in this way until now. I am not ok yet. I am better than I was though and breakthrough does come after the breaking in all kinds of forms, including the ones you would never expect. Right now it’s so much more hurting than healing, but I am driven and determined to survive, and to do it boldly. My knees demand me to bend for more time with Jesus and that brokenness brought me to a new depth beyond anything I had ever experienced… that God is bigger than what I had ever processed before. When we see star dust, He sees galaxies in us.
“In my brokeness I met Jesus in ways I never could have while whole.” – Author unknown. I love this quote and it highly defines this experience.
My kids know everything there is to know about me so not telling them right away was so hard. I had to wait until just maybe by God’s grace, there would exist one doctor that believed I could live. It would only take one. One person to be there when you need it the most is often all we need. I got 2nd and third opinions, seemingly endless tests and scans. I have endured three major surgeries in the past few years and each one has taken a toll, physically but mostly mentally. In the past 6 months I have endured over 127 appointments. The math isn’t math’n, but alas, it does somehow add up and that is only for the cancer related appointments. Being a mom means there are always so many other things. Life is busy for all of us but dang, mommyhood and trauma survivors just look different to me these days. There are warriors among us.
October is Breast Cancer awareness month. Why nonstop pink ribbon? I can assure you that the hell these people go thru is a different kind of horror. They needed all the support and hope that others had provided when they had lost all of their own and now they are doing the same for others. I thought I understood and was supportive, but now, now I get it on a much deeper relatable level. ‘They had given me until end of summer to live.’ This came the day before my sons turned 16. This was my first encounter that something was wrong. This was not ok. From the day a swollen lymph node was found to a little over a month later when I had surgery…. I had had 86 doctor appointments. I was exhausted to the core of my being. I had been saying I something felt off for years before they found it. I held on to the things we hear as women that are true for many, but wasn’t true for me and isn’t true for everyone.
-Women under 40 often have dense breast and if you have been told you have dense breast you need to advocate to get a diagnostic ultrasound or MRI.-
By the time this was found, I was dismissed by doctors, had 2 separate Mayo Clinic referrals, was told with no family history, no hereditary gene, that my chances of this pain being breast cancer was under 3 percent. They made me feel crazy and was told I would need to accept that nothing was wrong. Yet, I wasn’t wrong and I wasn’t too young. The mammogram being clear was misleading and it almost cost me my life. It is true that most my cancer clinic friends are older than me, but it is also true that there are women next to me enduring chemo that are in their 20’s. For me, blood tests have never shown anything is off. The pea sized lump or breast changes were never there, and no mammogram would have ever shown this kind of cancer. Never. What if me sharing my story doesn’t help? But what if it does!?
Endless questions and each answer leads to 100 more questions. The more you find out the more you realize you simply just didn’t know before. Surgery choices: (oddly there are many). Weighing chemo options: (there are lots of different types of chemo and it isn’t always the correct choice for everyone/types of cancer). Natural path doctors and solutions have a time to lead and a time to follow: (the supplements, clean eating, and so much etc helps more then most doctors give credit). Radiation: (I am one in around 700,000 who can feel it…. This is a pain only closely understood when I think about torture chambers). Hysterectomy again: (I had a full, now I need a total…: what the heck does that even mean? Now you have a glimpse into the ridiculous circles I had to navigate). Cancer medicine/hope: (This has too many options to even touch on). One step forward, two steps back sounds amazing. In reality this feels like a rollercoaster of emotional vertigo with one inch forward and a mile backwards. Trauma resurfaces when I least expect it, but so does healing and love.
This next sentence is the hardest because it reaching beyond myself and for myself. I need help… if you can, I need endless prayers. These hit me completely different now. THIS is the Biggest need I have. Prayers that I will keep my eyes on Jesus and trust that He will never leave me or my kids. Prayers for peace to rise and pain to lessen. Trust that in every day there is beauty to be found. Please pray, just one prayer for me. I also need financial help. I have given tens of thousands over the years to people who needed it but I’ll be honest… I also was secretly wondering….Do they have insurance? Do they budget? Do they cancel Christmas if they need the money? Um yes. All of it yes, and still, the bills are unbearable and impossible. I feel so much shame that this cancer has caused bills that come on the daily that are impossible to pay. I’m being vulnerable and humble while also being embarrassed and depleted. Right now I need prayers and positive thoughts. I need the reminder that it just takes one person to give me hope and I too can be that one for somebody. If God leads you to leave a single dollar can you do that? Just one. I want to know and remember that just ONE truly does matter.
Everything helps. People ask “What do you need?” That is the hardest question because the only answer I have ever given is ‘Nothing. I got it covered, but thank you!’ When you are going thru cancer you are just overwhelmed, have decision fatigue and are functioning as a robot most days. But truly… everything helps. Anything. It makes a person feel seen and loved. Every single kind thing you do for someone makes them feel like they are someone to hug and love and not just their diagnosis. The heaviness that weighs on every mamas heart of wanting to be everything for their tribe gets heavy when your can’t move for weeks at a time. Friends who have become family have brought meals , offered to run errands, dropped off flowers… the list goes on. I honestly didn’t really ever think I could make a difference and if only to one person how much did I really matter? But then day by day God has given me just One person who showed me that next step could be done. He sent me an Angel the night before chemo was to start to redirect my steps. He gives me just one text, one letter, one hug and in that moment I really really needed that ‘one’. My energy used to feel like an endless ocean, now it feels as small as dixie cup. I am months behind replying to people but know… your message of encouragement has impacted me and you matter to me. I hope that me being brave matters and that someday my story can help somebody in your life when you don’t have the words. That maybe you can use some of mine even if they are imperfect, broken, misplaced, and raw, but also hold a sliver of hope. I don’t know if any of this will make a difference, but I will try.
Desperation makes you do the craziest things and suddenly you become brave and vulnerable in spaces you never dreamt. Desperation and the reality of death also make you see the world differently, makes you see forever and today for what they are both at once. I don’t know what the future looks like. I know that the past 6 months depleted me, but also healed me. My world is huge and also I keep it small, protected and safe and right now my dixie cup is overflowing with just one step at a time. Cancer is different for everyone. Coming face to face to death is different for everyone. Nearly every decision that was made, in the 11th hour God changed. Every moment is a trust fall with Jesus. In the space I’m in right now it seems there is a lot of waiting and a lot reflecting. There is a lot of ‘was I enough?’ Do my kids know how deeply I love them? Did I make a difference to anyone? Did I do everything I could with my life? How do I measure my life? With moments, or memories, scars or fears? Somehow we are always capable of more… even when it’s impossible. I learnt so much about a cancer I never wanted to know anything about. I’ve learnt that when you think tears have an end point there is in fact so many more. I’ve seen that no matter what you see in others they are carrying so much more then you could ever imagine. Even this long post…. Might take 10 minutes to read but is the top of the iceberg in what is all happening inside of me, to me and around me. Right now the procedures and surgeries, symptoms and pain feel endless and yet God has been relentless to send me hope and help and healing. He is relentless for us.
I am a mess in progress. I am in constant pain and that’s just an ugly fact. I am also in constant prayer and that that is the most beautiful part of this. There has been miracles in the mess, so many miracles. Pain feels like a poison that paralyzes my body and poisons my thoughts. Prayer leads me to purpose. Time disappears and also gets magnified at the same time. In that hole of despair with all odds with their back against me I still found hope and I am working on wholeness. Every day that I possibly can, I am choosing to whisper “Jesus help give me purpose”, rather then let this poison destroy me. I am so incredibly grateful for my life, for all I have been and all I will be. I have always been a writer. I get this from my dad. He is my protector, my person in life and in this cancer journey that has never left my side. He is what has always brought me back to who I always was and who I want to be. I am so grateful that in this storm he has come to Every Single Appointment and has been a phone call away (no matter the hour), as panic tends to visit deep in the night. Writing has been my therapy to process all that has been happening. I made a page to store my thoughts, to read how far I’ve come, to remember there is more to me then this chapter. I will say the religious type don’t always love my use of french but then clarity reminds me that I don’t always love their judgements of people that don’t fit into their made-up box. I’ve finally called it a tie and as it turns out most people find the real me to be the balance that makes God reachable and relatable, so for now… this is me. The page is: Brave-up.org Be You….BU. Be brave enough to say yes. Be brave enough to say no. To be and to feel and to experience all that makes you who you are. Right now there are significantly more hard days than easy ones but I am moving forward I think, but man it is a slow burn. Know that for someone today, You are the ONE they need and you are absolutely magical exactly the way you are.
As you think you are. Remind yourself every day who you are.
8/9 Thank you for writing me… and for writing me immediately. I don’t do that. I save each special text like a piece of Chocolate I can only have once a month or once I’ve earned it or some weird logic… then it gets in my head that it has to be everything when I simply have the energy for hello. I’ve really missed you. I think about you all the time. Please forgive me for not checking on you immediately.
8/16 You are a ducking warrior. You are the daughter of a King.
8/19 Grateful for my problems today.
Waiting: it’s just waiting. So much waiting. Sitting in waiting rooms waiting. Time to think. But it’s not real thinking… it’s waiting room thinking. It’s ease dropping whether you want to or not. Hearing everything and nothing both at once. So much waiting. Just wait.
Thank you for helping me out… how often do you do this God?
8/28 It took 5 months to the day that I took an anti anxiety pill. “I am so strong”. That is what I tell myself. What I need you to hear if you’re going thru this is “No. That was so stupid.”
9/3 When you are an indecisive person, decisiveness is also from God.
Affiliations matter. I took my dad back into the dressing room where I had mentally collapsed and recreated the memory of death and defeat into a memory of comfort and safety. At the beginning of radiation my son and I had gotten in a car accident. My car has been in the shop the entire time I was in Radiation- months! I didn’t realize until today that I don’t have my car affiliated with daily radiation, an hour drive, burning or battling. It sounds little, but God I just now gave me this as something special- almost unnoticed and yet it matters. Thank you Jesus for the things I notice, for the things I don’t, and for helping me recreate love where hell once lived.
I don’t need you to come for the iv, but I did need to know you were coming, I think it’s like Santa. Most kids don’t need to actually see him but they do have peace and comfort and safety in knowing he sees all that they are doing right and is in fact coming. Today you were my Santa. These things get bigger in my head as the day goes on so I try to get my daily 2 hour hospital field trip out of the way as soon as possible. Thank you Linds for being there.
9/6 To drive up full of tears and mirrors and hidden fears. Oh Jesus I am coming home to them today Thank you so so much for it being 4 months ago now. Thank you that I still get to watch them walk out of school. I am so grateful I get to be here.
One day in September: I’m sad Jesus. I’ve been sad before. It’s not just because of cancer or G or S or J or my heart suddenly slowing with hundreds of PVC’s. Or my arm pain. Or my chest pain. Or my nerve pain. Or the car. Or the hail damage. Fitting in. Fitting out. I’m just sad these days. Well actually just today. Well actually maybe just tonight. My 3 appointments, my kid needing an MRI, damn EIP meeting, probably should have eaten today. Today was just a lot for anybody. That’s all.
Hows life these days? Well… It’s a trust fall with Jesus.
Dear kids: Love is layered. Oh how I love you so so much, I’m not going to leave you. When you think of me know there are so many more layers of memories and love that you will remember and feel right when you need me. My soul exist past and before this life and I will be with you always. The beautiful days I will be there cheering you on and the hard ones. All that you are I am in it. I am on your side in all that you endure. I will be holding you and rubbing your back. You are the greatest part of me. You are my everything. Be there for each other when you can… for in each of you there are parts of me. When you see the stars know I am smiling at you and when you feel the wind I am blowing you soft kisses. Oh how I pray my love comforts and cuddles you always. I love you I love you I love you. Mommy
It sounds so simple. Maybe for you it is and always has been. For me though, it was compplicccaaatttted! For so long; for too long. I grew up on both sides of the train tracks per se- both financially and religiously. I’ve had both a stable upbringing and a chaotic toxic one. I’ve experienced what healthy and whole can be and also survived what no child should, or very often does. This is me…braving up and being me. If you can’t be transparent with yourself… then who are you really? There’s reasons we are all the way we are, feel the way we do, think the way we do, do the things we do. We see the world thru our own angle and it won’t always align with other people and that’s ok. I’ve found my people in this space. They are the shooting stars, standing out amongst the rest. I found mine when I least expected it and you will find yours too.
In many seasons being brave means different things. Being brave can have different definitions. For me, being myself meant wearing a lot of different hats. And that’s ok. I absolutely love who I am. It feels good to say that, but mostly to know that. If you need to: say it with me… “I love who I am”. Gosh that feels powerful.
So I have put the meaning of Brave Up # BU behind most everything I am and do. I’ve put it on baseball bats and keychains, the cover of my future book and love letters to my kids. Well actually, the book cover in my perfect world would actually read ‘Brave (the fuck) up’. But that’s just me being real with my own self talk. Double down knee prayers and a few f words here and there are truly what makes the espresso hit the spot in my life.
I have a lot of stories, experiences, and perspectives that simply don’t fit in the box. I’ve realized when I go to talk about them that I instead stay quiet because some are frankly too far fetched to even believe unless you were there. I started this blog in my soul years ago, but it wasn’t perfect yet so I couldn’t actually do it. What if I made people angry, or they didn’t like what they read, or I lost a friend? Well, my time to edit my life to fit better into their stories expired… so there’s that. 4 months ago I was initially given until end of summer to live so according to them I have 6 days. When I do go someday I won’t care about their opinions, I’ll only wish my tribe knew me. So this…this is everything me.
No, I don’t believe that is my story anymore, but also for two days recently it felt pretty touch and go and I just straight up need to do this for me. Facing death is a real thing as it turns out and there’s just no way I can let this part of me die yet. I stilll have more to say, to write, people to hug and love. Writing is my safe place and I need to feel safe right now. It’s scary as fuck right now, but also I’m safe in His arms. I’m wearing my Kings love around me and oh how our God is so real and so protective. Until this encounter with death, He was my ‘Most of the time’. Now God is my everything and 99 percent of the time it’s just me and Him on the mountain top and Him and me in the valley of death… so yes God, here I am. Use me.
This is for me. If you get anything from it then it is most definitely for you too. I love you. 🤍- me
I write. I dream. I love. a lot… For the longest time I held my breath and waited to write. I was often writing for someone else. But oh shit, now I need me, I need to read what is in my heart and the only way it often escapes is with my pen…so here I am, writing for me.
I have read more in the past 5 months than I ever had and what has helped me the most is other peoples blogs; their season, their chapter, their story. So if this is for you, then welcome! If it’s not, know in a deep rooted love that also, I am so grateful. That sounds weird but really- this level of depth and despair and determination is not for everyone.
I have so many backlogged thoughts that I feel I have to empty to make room for the ‘MORE’. Every morning I sit up by God’s unexplainable grace and whisper MORE because for today, that is what He has decided to give me…MORE. Life looks different right now and my words and notes currently come out as a drunken babbling 2 year old and that is ok I think. Well, hopefully 2 yr olds don’t drink but in my experience they make a whole lot of zero sense but they know what they mean and what they want and for that I give them props. (Also, full disclosure: is a photo of my twin boys drinking a Guinness in Ireland at the age of 2yrs old does in fact exist- I can’t stress this enough I am never judging you).
So I have written years worth into this blog, journals upon journals and yet, they stayed there. Now life showed me that this door needs to be there for someone to open someday. I don’t know who. Maybe you? Anyhow. This is a space that I will write about Braving Up. This was whispered across my soul years ago. I wear baseball caps that say Brave Up # BU that don’t exist anywhere but in the mirror. It holds space for everybody! It is my thumb print that I hope to leave this world. Look in the mirror, see you for all the magic and beauty that exists inside of you, all of it, be brave and Be You.
Yet for now… its starts mid story. It has to be mid because I can’t accept that this is the end. March 28th the doctors gave me until end of summer to live… so end of summer to love. I’m not done loving yet. So here is where I escape for now with a pen translating my soul… to love myself a little deeper in this valley of defeat and to journal all of it. I have experienced the relentless love of the King of of the galaxies and without my Jesus my life would be without color. Life is a mix of many things: for me, its a mix of how desperately I need God and find myself on my knees all hours of the day, how I say Fuck a lot too. I actually started this blog years ago when my soul was smacked with a thought I never would have imagined on my own. ‘Brave the Fuck up’. So yes… this is me- doing just that.
Brave Up. Be You. BU. Be brave enough to bring your true self to your own table, to your friends, to mine. I believe in you… and I believe in me.
When the dreaded end needed to be more, she did just that. When all seemed lost, she also felt so found. He bound Himself to her in a way this world doesn’t always get to understand. She had to fight to feel alive and writing was always her hearts favorite thing. She felt like she was spiraling downward and the only thing that made her flailing feel like flying was writing. So she did. For herself. For those that need her. For the diamonds (Dymind) that may someday need me. For today, to have more purpose and less pain. She felt like she was made for this. She is me.
BraveUP.com 