During the bouts of cancer diagnosis and treatments, Rachel writes e-mails to keep her friends and family updated on her thoughts and spiritual walk.

“Nope. It’s better.”

May 1, 2005

I had another ultrasound and doctor’s appointment this week and the news is good: the cysts are smaller. Well, the biggest one is anyway. And, while another one has gotten bigger, it means that they’re physiological – ie. not cancer. We are relieved and grateful at the news and that for the moment there are no more unknowns.


Of course, we’re still in the middle of the reconstruction. My tissue expansion is finished. At least I think so. It’s really hard to decide how big you want to be. I mean, what if I make a mistake? I only get one shot at this. It’s one thing to be unhappy with your size when it’s God-given. Then you basically head to the nearest lingerie department and work with what you’ve got. But to have to choose! I’m just afraid of waking up after my second surgery is done and going, “Oh man. I should have gone bigger/smaller.” Sigh – decisions, decisions. Anyway, my second surgery (to replace the expanders with the actual implants) will be in August or September.


It was an emotional month – as you could tell. I think being forced to go through another round of unknowns so soon after treatment accelerated the emotional aftermath of last year. The initial diagnosis, surgery and chemo all came so quickly, one on top of the other, that my emotions were more related to the physical effects of treatment and not the reality of, well, dying. I have and continue to grieve the after effects of this year. Grieving the physical and mental changes – the scars, the fatigue, the forgetfulness. Grieving the fact that we are finished having children as a result. Grieving what a lousy deal cancer is and, as a consequence, grieving how broken the world is.


But, as always, God is here. None of this is a surprise to him. He has stood beside me when the drama queen in me took over and I questioned what he was doing – or why he wasn’t doing something. But he was. He was showing me his faithfulness. His plan. We were not meant to experience pain and suffering. And someday, if we know Him, we will get to experience what he always intended for us. Until then, we are left to longing and dreaming.


Sometimes I try to envision what my mansion is going to look like in heaven. Overlooking the ocean. Floor to ceiling windows. Dark wood floors. Big verandah. Breezes blowing. Lush trees. And I think to myself, “Yeah. That’s good. That’s what it’s going to be like.” And I hear a still, small voice say, “Nope. It’s better.”


“No eye has seen, no ear has heard, no mind has conceived what God has prepared for those who love him.”
(1 Cor. 2:9)


Heaven. Or here. He has much in store for me. And for you. I can’t wait to see what it is.


So I’ll sign off for awhile. Thank you being there for us. And for listening to my ramblings through this. It’s been nice to have company on the journey.



One Comment

  1. Rachel thank you…thank you for being raw, real and sold out to Him. I wept at your video…His goodness is amazing and you reflect that! Thank you. As I worked with my children today on their Bible memory this vs. came to mind for you and I wanted to share it. Isaiah 26:3-4. You may even have it memorized your self, but you were the treasure that came to my mind. May the Lord bless you as you meditate on Him. In prayer-Angela

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