![]() |
Today I turn 53.
Birthdays used to be about getting older. Now they feel different.
As I celebrate another year of life, I’m also celebrating my three-year “cancerversary” — the season that changed everything. Three years ago today we unknowingly walked into the darkest chapter of our life. We didn’t know what was coming, but God did.
Looking back now, I can clearly see two versions of my life: before cancer and after cancer.
There are things I miss about the woman I was before. She lived with the quiet assumption that tomorrow was guaranteed. She spent too much energy worrying about things that, in the grand scheme of life, didn’t really matter.
Cancer took some things from me.
It took my innocence. It took my sense of certainty. It changed relationships. It left scars that aren’t always visible.
But it also gave me gifts I never would have chosen, yet wouldn’t trade.
It taught me to slow down.
I no longer save adventures for “someday” because I’ve learned that someday isn’t promised. I spend more time outside, where I feel closest to God. I notice sunsets that declare His glory, mountain trails that remind me of His faithfulness, and quiet moments that I once rushed right past.
I’ve learned that peace is worth protecting. Life is too precious to waste on drama, bitterness, or trying to live up to everyone’s expectations. Instead, I want to spend my days loving well, laughing often, exploring His creation, and investing in the people who truly matter.
Cancer didn’t just change how I see life—it changed how I choose to live it.
Most of all, it taught me that God is faithful—not only on the mountaintops, but in the valleys we pray we’ll never have to walk through.
Before cancer, I knew about God’s faithfulness.
After cancer, I know His faithfulness.
There is a difference.
He carried me when I had no strength left. He gave me peace when fear tried to overwhelm me. He reminded me, over and over again, that my story was never out of His hands.
Looking back, I wouldn’t choose the pain.
But I would choose the God who met me in it every single time.
Today, I’ll blow out 53 candles.
Not everyone gets to celebrate another birthday. I know that now in a way I never understood before.
So I won’t complain about another year older.
I’ll thank God for another year to love, to laugh, to hike another trail, to write another page, to encourage someone who is walking through their own valley, and to continue becoming the woman He is shaping me to be.
Life after cancer isn’t better.
It isn’t worse.
It’s simply different.
It’s deeper.
It’s more intentional.
It’s filled with a gratitude that can only come from knowing just how fragile this life really is.
As I step into year 53, my prayer is simple:
Lord, help me never forget where You’ve brought me from. Keep my eyes fixed on You. Let my life point people to Your goodness, and help me spend whatever days You give me loving well, serving faithfully, and embracing the wild, beautiful life You’ve entrusted to me.
Three years later, I’m still standing.
Not because I’m strong but because God is faithful.
And that is worth celebrating.
I’d like to share this verse that God placed on my heart:
So teach us to number our days, That we may gain a heart of wisdom.”
— Psalm 90:12 (NKJV)
Until next time…..❣️
With love and gratitude,
Ali

Thank you for sharing. I can relate to a lot of this. I feel like having cancer made me a better person in some ways. I decided I wanted to be a better person—closer to God, my friends, and family—and to not put off adventures for tomorrow or wait to tell someone how much I love them. -Lorren Rogers
ReplyDeleteThank you for sharing! You so beautifully captured so much of what my heart has felt on my cancer journey.
ReplyDeleteBlessings and congratulations on your birthday and cancerversary celebrations!š
Great is His faithfulness, and great is yours, dear sister.ššš