A different journey

One I hadn’t planned on or could ever imagine.

Two years ago today (the date was actually Sep. 3) I took my husband to see the doctor. He had not been feeling well and I had to take off from work to take him—it was that bad that I had to drive him there.

God was there. Everywhere I turned. He had my back and He walked beside me.

From the observant nurse at the doctor’s office, the familiar face at the ER sign-in, the encouraging ER nurse that was with us all day, my young friend having lunch at the sandwich shop I went to for my lunch that stopped and prayed, my friend from church who just “happened” to walk through ER to visit on her way to her car after work, and the oncologist from the next town over who determined that he couldn’t do anything but send my husband to MD Anderson.

He was there.

Almost eight months were spent in Houston. Away from home. Away from anything “normal.” Away from friends and family.

It was probably the most difficult and the most easy time of my life. You’re wondering why so “me” centered. My husband endured the most difficult time of his life physically, mentally and emotionally. But I learned, again, that he is my home.

When God had my back, He had my husband too.

Why the most difficult? Obvious.

We learned a new “normal.” Days in the hospital while he went through chemo and all the side effects from the stuff they put in him. Other days in the clinic or transfusion units. Waiting. Long days that sometimes started at 7am and ended halfway through the night.

When we weren’t at the hospital or clinic we were in a hotel suite. We found one with a separate bedroom and a full kitchen that we were able to talk them down on the price because even their medical discount was not to be afforded. We made friends with the receptionist that worked the late shift and was also a cancer survivor. Laundry was also free. That was a blessing.

Why the easiest? Because I knew. When I shared on CarePages our needs and desires, I had friends back home that I knew were praying for each of those needs. Not only that, but when I asked for something specific, He provided.

To the letter.

I learned some things on this unwanted journey. I learned patience. I learned that my husband and I would be okay when we retired, having lived in a two-room hotel suite for almost eight months. I learned how to crochet. I learned that I can do without.

But most of all, I learned that God, Creator of the Universe, loves me so much that He took care of me and took care of my husband in our greatest time of need. I learned that I am His favorite daughter. (Okay, you can be His favorite, too.)

That was two years ago. Today we are both retired. He is in full remission. And I’m still a favorite daughter.

The journey matters.


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