20-24
Disclaimer: This writing might be triggering for someone overcoming grief and loss. It is not my intention to add pain to one’s life, but help one see good things come from hard seasons. My heart aches for those whose heart breaks because of unexpected loss.
I’m a grown woman, celebrating what my bone marrow transplant nurse calls, “My second birthday.” Little does she know, celebrations aren’t my thing. Bringing attention to myself is surely not my thing. Plus, this regeneration of my cells doesn’t compare to the new birth in Christ I experienced fourteen years ago.
Okay fine. Today is one out of three monumental days (everyday deserves this praise) out of the year, I get to remember and reflect on the blessing of God not being done with me.
Today, I reflected on my transplant and the difference a year makes.
A year ago today, sadness overwhelmed my kids as we only talked through FaceTime.
Today, I got them up and out the door before the bus pulled up.
A year ago today, I was attached to a heart monitor.
Today, I closed a chapter on pelvic therapy because cancer cells wrecked havoc for way too long.
A year ago today, I was flooded with texts and prayers.
Today, I had an audience of one.
A year ago, my hubby fetched me hospital cafeteria french fries for a late night snack.
Today, I whipped up school lunches and the kids’ favorite pasta and garlic bread for dinner.
Not being able to shake the concept of my bone marrow transplant being like an additional birthday, I wrote in my journal, “If birth precedes death, then death also precedes birth.” Like Lazarus coming out of his grave, death preceded his new life. Here’s what the Bible says about Lazarus coming back to life (John 11:43-44)…
43 “Jesus called in a loud voice, ‘Lazarus, come out!’”
44 “The dead man came out, his hands and feet wrapped with strips of linen, and a cloth around his face.
Jesus said to them, ‘Take off the grave clothes and let him go.’”
What a beautiful reminder on a heavy day like today to take off those “grave clothes” of mine. That the death of cancer inside of me, and God’s healing on my life has fresh hope and a renewed purpose.
This day, a year ago, was called “day zero.”
Each inpatient chemotherapy day leading up to the transplant was marked with a negative number. Progressively getting closer to transplant day, -6, -5, -4, -3, -2, -1. The grueling week that finally brought on “day zero.” A new slate and opportunity to gain ground. I counted up the days until I’d be home with my family and a little further out of the woods. +1, +2, +3, +4, and so on.
Today marks +365.
365 days of physical, emotional, and spiritual healing and renewal.
A day worth celebrating because even against my own efforts, my body is far more mature than last year.
If this beautiful design by my daughter doesn’t seal the day, I don’t know what does. I love me some good number sequences, do you?
