The first story these scars tell are of bravery. It’s having the courage to face cancer and choosing to fight, to live!
The next part of the story is strength. The strength to endure the battle. The strength of a support system that stood in the front lines for me. The strength of my husband and kids that fought for me when no one even knew I was at war. And strength only God could grant me to reach for the The Light when Darkness tried to bury me in its heavy, thickness.
I have tiny scars. In the years to come, I’ll probably have to search for them to even find them. I have scars in places only I’ll see or notice. But I also have long, ugly scars. In a way, I’ve been left deformed. Yet through it all, my husband has proven that none of these scars make him love me any less. If anything, they’ve proven just how greatly I am loved. These scars are a love story greater than most love stories.
People often try to bury the ugly things we go through and the not so great parts of our histories, but scars are my daily reminders that cancer was a part of my life. The disease is real. It comes unexpected. It doesn’t just go away in a moment. It happens to others who’ll need me in the future to be an example that it doesn’t always get to win either!
Sometimes we think we can avoid the rough spots, the tough times, or the bad parts of stories. The truth is those bumps, bruises, and the scars that come along the way make our lives meaningful, worth while, and prove we’ve chosen to fight and to live.
These scars, they tell the story of survival. I didn’t just survive the disease of cancer, but I survived so many untold battles on the way to remission and even beyond.
One of the most frightening parts of this story is the fear of a relapse, but these scars remind me right now cancer is a part of my past and that’s where I’ll leave it. The scars give me strength to move forward, to start a new chapter, and to have faith in God’s perfect plan for my imperfect life!
This story changed me. These scars are a part of who I am now. They’ve helped to mold me and transform me into the woman I’ve become.
And then comes the moment in the story when you read the last word, you allow the story to change you for the better, you close the book, and you move on to another deeper and more meaningful story.