“In many ways, this has been a year of loss.” I said that to a dear friend this past week, and it’s true. So very, very true.
But the next line was this: “In the midst of all that, there have also been reasons to celebrate.”
It’s both/and . . . not either/or. It’s beauty and brokenness, highs and lows, all mixed together.
One year ago today, I had surgery. A friend dropped me off at the hospital on her way to work, I put on a paper gown, and then I waited. There was peace, but also, I was nervous. It was both/and.
So I’m wearing a reminder today, #preachingtomyownheart, that God is greater than the highs and lows. I’m holding tightly to Lamentations 3:19-24 and re-reading the words I wrote 365 days ago, claiming them all over again:
“Well. Depending on how you look at it, I’m either incredibly unlucky or outrageously blessed. Because 3 tumors and 1 cyst before age 26 is… a lot.
Apparently, if God gives you something to write about, He’s going to make darn sure you believe it yourself. And that doesn’t end when the book releases. So this is me, once again saying the same three words that have been woven through my story, the truth I believe to my core: even if not. He is good and gracious, faithful and kind, even if not. Even if I don’t get the results I want. Even if the waiting room is empty. Even if something falls through or doesn’t add up or more unknowns are around the corner. Even then, even there, even if not. I’m choosing “even if” instead of “what if” because at the end of the day? I’ve been outrageously blessed. #evenifnotbook”
His track record is perfect. On every page, He is faithful and kind, greater than any high or low. So I’m saying it today, smack in the middle of the both/and, and I hope maybe you’ll say it too — I’m choosing even if, not what if.