Some days just feel heavy. I've found myself in one of those seasons. Not because of one major crisis, but because of several little things. Disappointments. Misunderstandings. Unmet expectations. Conversations that leave me unsettled. Moments that make me question things I thought I understood. And before I know it, I'm carrying hurt, confusion, frustration, and sadness that I can't quite put into words. Just a heaviness that settles into my heart and follows me through the day. What I've learned through seasons like this is that life doesn't stop being challenging just because we've overcome something difficult in the past. I used to think that after surviving cancer, everything else would somehow feel easier—piece of cake compared to what I just conquered. I had faced something so life-altering, the smaller disappointments of everyday life wouldn't affect me as much. But unfortunately that's not how being human works. We still get hurt. We still ...
What would you do if a doctor looked you in the eyes and told you that you had six months to one year to live… if you walked away from their recommended treatment? Would fear take over? Would you follow their plan, even if something inside you didn’t sit right? Or would you pause… and lean into something deeper? For me, this isn’t a hypothetical question. On September 22nd, 2023, I sat in my oncologist’s office and told him I was quitting chemo. That’s when I heard those words. Six months to one year to live. Just like that—my life reduced to a timeline. A prediction. A ceiling placed over a future only God truly knows. I remember the weight of that moment. The silence that followed. The choice sitting right in front of me—louder than anything else in the room. Do I partner with fear… or do I trust God? Because here’s the truth I had to wrestle with: doctors are human. They are trained, educated, and experienced—but they are not God. They don’t hold the pen to my story. The...