Everything Reminds Me of My Blog (even cancer screening)


Love’s Eternal Day

It’s in the dreariness of winter

when grayness blocks the Light

our faith’s required the most to see

us through the edge of night


It’s in the melancholy moment

 when the fear of death is met

our true beliefs will surface

 yielding strength or deep regret


It’s in the vivid realization

when the body faces decay

 our soul must embrace solace

within Love’s eternal day.


Wendy ❀ 2015


Ian found a swamp where I could take pictures of swans.

Since we’d been having a particularly stressful week,

 he knew I needed something to look forward to on the weekend,

so we made plans to visit Coal Creek Heritage Park.




When you’re grappling with the possibility that your life may end sooner than later,

you sit up and take notice;

the outdated wallpaper becomes invisible;

and thoughts of not living long enough to see your children leave the nest,

to build their own,

cover the walls of your mind.  


When I recently had a health scare, all I could think about was:

“I want to live long enough to see my children grow up.”

And the crazy-lady part of me (all writers have one in their brain) wanted to turn this whole cancer screening thing into a blogpost.


My sane-self shook her head. “Good grief. Seriously–a blog post?”

The crazy-lady in me grinned and nodded. “Yep.”

“Whatever for?”

Everything reminds me of my blog.”




I also thought about not wanting to leave my husband alone to finish raising our young.

I thought about all the hikes I’d miss out on,

and I told him to make sure he still went on our regular walks.

But most of that stressful week I went about my normal routine.

There’s no history of breast cancer in my family.

This is just a false alarm.

But I needed to check it out.

How can I tell my daughter to take care of her health

if I’m not taking care of mine?




Saturday: “I think I’ve found a lump.”

Sunday: I hope people at church can’t tell I’m nervous.

Monday: My doctor examined me. “You have a lump. I’ll fax the hospital and request a mammogram and an ultrasound.”

Tuesday: The hospital called. “Come in on Thursday for tests. Don’t wear antiperspirants.”

Wednesday night: The phone rang. “Hello.”

“How are you doing?” A lifelong friend asked (she happens to work in a cancer clinic in another town).

Both the sane-self and crazy-lady were amazed at the friend’s uncanny timing. “Pretty good,” they lied.

They talked about their families, and at the end the crazy-lady finally fessed up, because she coveted her friend’s prayers.

 Thursday at the hospital: “I hate not wearing antiperspirants,” the crazy-lady said when they were alone in the examination room.

Sane-self rolled her eyes. “Don’t sweat the small stuff.”

Crazy-lady groaned. “This is no time to make puns.” She pulled her camera out of her purse.

Sane-self’s mouth fell open. “What are you doing now?”

“Taking pictures.” Crazy-lady focused her camera on the patient gowns. “The mammogram lady said I could.”




A door opened and the technician re-entered the room. “You should get a call tomorrow or Monday with the results.”




Friday: The phone rang. “Hello… sorry, you have the wrong number.”

Sane-self forced herself to do her exercise routine. And wash her hair.

And do laundry. And supper preparations. And sweep the kitchen floor.

The doctor called. “The specialist says things look benign–so far. Come back in six months, and we’ll see if the lump has grown any bigger.” I’ve marked you down to receive a phone call. So don’t worry about remembering.”

Crazy-lady relaxed her shoulders. Good, it’ll take me that long to recover from all that pinching. Is she saying that cause we tend to skip follow-up appointments? “Thank you. Did you know I brag on you? I tell people I’ve got the best doctor…”

“… I hate to see my patients suffer or hear bad news.”




Sane-self scrunched her nose. “Why are you crying? We just got good news.”

“But what about all those women who’ve heard bad news?” Crazy-lady wiped a tear off her cheek. “They have to face a boob-saturated, boob-infatuated, and boob-worshiping society with one side missing. Sometimes both.”

“True. But isn’t it better to be lopsided or no-sided than dead?”

Crazy-lady sighed. “Yep.”




For the LORD comforts his people

and will have compassion on his afflicted ones.

Isaiah 49:13 


What’s your go-to verse or quote when you need comfort?

Have you been getting regular checkups?

95% of women called for additional tests do not have cancer

( posted on the wall of the mammogram waiting room).


Blessings of Comfort ~ Wendy ❀


While I waited at various appointments,

I read a lovely inspirational book on my Kindle

by Shelli Littleton: A Gift Worth Keeping: It Goes With My Decor!

It was like having a kindred spirit beside me

as I read how she allows God to bless her in the midst of trials.

Now I’m learning to think of life’s challenges as gifts.

Thank you, dear Shelli.

Here’s a link to her blog (and to where I noticed her book).

Shelli’s Scribblings



~ ❀ ~