"Worry is Not Preparation"
The keynote speaker at Creative Escape last year said that on the very night I went to the ER in Arizona. It made an impression. I even texted it to my sister because I thought it was so important. It does no good to worry all the time. Seems like we live in the "time of worry". It's too bad. I think it's because we know too much. We hear about every single thing that goes wrong in the world and we start to think it could happen to us. Worry is not preparation. It does no good. It takes away your joy and quite frankly, shows a lack of faith. The Lord isn't going to let something happen in our life that won't help us grow and achieve some sort of greater happiness in the end. I truly believe that. I don't think that means we're immune to pain and suffering and loss. Those things happen. They're supposed to happen. They make us stronger and more like God. So if these things are ulitmately good (though sometimes almost impossible to get through) why do we spend so much time worrying?
I have been having chest pains again and even some of the same symptoms that I had at this time last year and of course I got freaked out. (I got a chest xray and I am fine - they say the pain is costochondritis - from some broken up cartilage in my ribcage due to the radiation... no big deal.) I really hate this feeling of hunching down in cancer's shadow. I never know if it's going to turn around and face me again. I hate feeling like I'm some crazy hypochondriac because I get a pain anywhere and think it's cancer. I have been running a lot lately and part of me thinks I am running from cancer. If I'm running, I'm healthy! Sick people can't run. Look at me go! I feel like if I stop, it'll catch up and get me. Worry worry. Useless worry. Like I control my fate. Worry is not preparation.
It's not coming back. I promise I don't wander around writhing my hands worrying about cancer all the time. I'm very happy. It just isn't always rosy. It isn't over even though it's over. I think it will be over, though, one day. Maybe when I hit that precious two-year mark?
We're almost to one year. Can you believe it? My cute haircut girl measured my hair. Three inches. In a year? I expected better of my follicles. They have really let me down. But I forgive them.