There is always life.  There is always death.  It is in your living where you determine your living.  God has ordained us for good.  Yet, in all of the trials of life, the ending is not always what we hope.  In ourselves, in our friends, and in our loved ones.  We are constantly trying to make sense of the way things go for us. We look for someone to blame. We sometimes get mad more than we get grateful.  It is in the invisibility of faith, where we find life.  Believing in that which we cannot see is counterintuitive to our human selves.  It is in the belief in Jesus where we can find solace and ultimate grace.

This has been a particularly challenging week for me.  For many, in fact.  I live my life as if I have never had cancer.  I almost brag about conquering it.  I boast in my grace.  I give ultimate credit to God.  He saw me through the depths of life.  Always has, always will.  Yet, I claim to be bionic;  as if I have control of my destiny.  I have SO MUCH gratitude for being one of the “lucky ones.”  Yet, I go about my life almost forgetful of what I have survived.

There is always grace in despair, right?  There were the moments, upon diagnosis, when I sought the answer to “why me, why now?” as if there is ever a good time to receive and cancer diagnosis.  I had just birthed my first baby.  I was nursing.  I was young.  I was happy.

I asked constantly, expecting God to just text me the answers.  The “oh hey, Kitt, here ya go…” here are all of the explanations.  Ultimately, I did not have the energy to question.  My days consisted of victories in holding my baby, bathing him without falling asleep, and making it up the stairs.  I used a calendar with so many medications, it filled the square.  One day at a time, I was defeating the beast.  Or, at least I prayed I was.

So, there it is…my “gratitude.”  That baby is now 14 years old, Glory to God.  I have been immensely blessed to have adopted another son.  He is nine now.  I have counted more blessings since my own diagnosis than I can even remember.  I have prayed for and thought of so many sisters who do not get the opportunity to count theirs.  I have seen and walked with many sisters who have suffered the diagnosis and the path it brings, no two alike.  Ultimately, I find “grace” and I find SO MUCH “guilt.”

This week, I have experienced more guilt than in all 14 years of my survivorship.  I live as if it never happened.  I almost forget.  The extra pounds and more scars than I can count are almost invisible to me all these years later.

BUT, this week, I am humbled.  I am meek in His mercy.  (If you know me, I am anything but meek)  I am reminded that “life is short,” write the *$#! blog post that you have put off for too long.  Honor your sisters, one who lay counting her breaths and one who is resting in peace.  One week, two hearts.  Their journey too similar to imagine… and too similar to mine.

THERE it is.  The guilt.  I was so confident that the fear would go away, the longer I “survived.”  However, here it is.  It knocked on my door this week and I called on the Lord to answer it.  “Hey, God, can you get the door?  I’m busy.”

And that is it.  Fear will always come knocking.  It will always come as a reminder of what could be and what has been.  Oh, and his best friend “guilt” is right behind him.  The two can be quite the duo.  They’ll ask you to dinner, then leave you with the bill.  I, however, will always have my “plus one.”  My Lord, my God.

Grace in gratitude and Grace in guilt.  Fenced in, yet freely flowing.  His mercy is the post and the gate.  He knows when to fence it in and when to let it free…

#holykitt#guiltandgratitude#spotthecross#faithwithakick#blogginforChrist