Tired

It's been a long week with still one more day to go. Didn't help that I had to drive over to Kaiser for my blood test in preparation for my doctor's appointment on Monday. There is always that moment before the needle goes in when my anxiety rises. Some of the lab technicians are so good, I really can't feel the needle. Some, aren't. I don't know which it'll be until the needle is inserted. I still hate that moment.

My melancholy didn't really help. As I walked to the medical building, I thought about miracles and the hope that I have that one day I will be miraculously healed. I do believe God has that power. I know he does without a doubt. Just because he hasn't performed it on me doesn't me he loves me any less or my sin is any more than any one else. It's just the way it is.

I like to believe that God has already performed a miracle, that he gave me more time. So what if during that time, I have to walk with a limp. So what if during that time, getting up from a chair can be difficult. At least I'm not filled with pain 24/7. At least I can still walk. At least I'm still to live, laugh, love. And hurt, cry, ache, because I still do those things do.

Driving back home, I thought about Jesus and how he asked if there was another way, that God would take the cup. A kiss on his check was the answer. How then can I ask for God to spare me pain, which really at this time, I don't have a lot of. How then can I ask for God to heal me completely. Don't get me wrong, I ask this ALL the time, EVERY morning, EVERY night, EVERY time I get up to walk right now. I AWAYS hope, hope that as I sleep, God will touch me and I'll awake and my cancer will be gone.

I know it can happen, but I don't know that it will. I'm okay with that. I can live like this a long, long time. I'm okay with that. I just want years. That would be my miracle. 12 more years...at least. But I'll take it one day at a time.