“In their hearts humans plan their course, but the Lord establishes their steps.” Proverbs 16:9
At the start of 2024, I had resolved to get healthy: mind, body, and soul. After struggling through various trials in my 20s, having two babies in my early 30s, and a health scare in the Fall of 2023, I could see why God had convicted me of this goal. At 36 years old, I felt like I was finally getting back a little bit of myself. I was exercising, regularly in the Word and prayer, and putting in work at therapy. Then, like Will Smith, “my life got flipped-turned upside down.”
In 2023, I had some alarming symptoms, but a diagnostic mammogram and ultrasound showed no cause for alarm. I was sent home with a clean bill of health. So when I felt a small growth in my breast in the spring of 2024, I wrote it off as nothing. Then a few months later, I noticed that it had doubled in size. I almost didn’t go in to see the doctor because I thought they might just send me home after seeing my clear scan from less than a year prior—they almost did. Sitting on the crinkly paper on the seat in my doctor’s office, I hesitated when the doctor asked if I wanted to get another mammogram. She said that I had a very low risk of cancer, and that my body may have just changed shape after having kids. I wanted so badly to believe her and to quietly accept her diagnosis. But my gut wouldn’t let me, so I insisted on getting another diagnostic mammogram for my “peace of mind.” The mammogram led to a biopsy, and my biopsy led to a cancer diagnosis: stage 3, triple-positive breast cancer.
Oftentimes, when you hear a cancer survivor’s story, they are shocked when they receive their diagnosis. I was not. I did not cry. Which is actually a huge shock looking back, because I cry over pretty much everything. But with one of my biggest trials ahead of me, I felt peace.
Now, I find it important to note here that feeling peace didn’t mean I wasn’t anxious at all. I spent many nights researching my symptoms and diagnosis. I pored over medical notes and test results, wanting to walk into every appointment equipped with my own knowledge of my disease (special shout-out to ChatGPT for helping). But I quickly learned to live in the intersection of faith and fear. Because during my sleepless nights, desperate prayers, and seemingly endless tears that eventually came, I knew that whatever the outcome, I had Christ.
Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego walked into the blazing furnace knowing that God was able to save them, but they also said this:
“If we are thrown into the blazing furnace, the God we serve is able to deliver us from it, and he will deliver us from Your Majesty’s hand. But even if he does not, we want you to know, Your Majesty, that we will not serve your gods or worship the image of gold you have set up.” Daniel 3:17–18 (NIV), emphasis added.
There was no guarantee that they would be physically rescued from the furnace. But they could obey and honor God—and stand tall in a literal fiery trial—because they knew that by faith, they had victory. I knew cancer treatment would be hard. I knew there were no guarantees. I knew I’d face my own fiery trial. Yet, I also knew that I had already won.
Living in the Intersection
It’s been over a year since my diagnosis and cancerversary, and I am still in active treatment today. As I write this article, I have 4 more infusions and a major reconstruction surgery ahead of me. My treatment has been very effective, and there was no evidence of disease in my post-surgery biopsy. It’s tempting to write an article that ends on a victorious and happy note—that I’m well, and God has fully delivered me through this trial—but the reality is that I’m still in the thick of it.
I won’t list all of the physical, mental, and spiritual pains I’ve been through over the last 13 months; it’s been a lot. My body is forever altered, and I’ve changed in ways that I still haven’t fully processed yet.
My hair is growing back, I’ve gained all the weight I’ve lost and then some, thanks to being in medically induced menopause, and the color has come back to my skin. So when people see me, I hear a lot of “I’m so glad you’re better,” or “You look really good. I’m so relieved.” What people don’t see is that I still struggle daily with the long-term side effects of chemotherapy and medication. I wake up in pain and fatigue, but I want to help with the morning routine and send the kids off to school. I continue to live in the intersection of faith and fear, wondering if my cancer will come back—wondering if I’ll get to see my kids go through the many milestones ahead of them. But I hold fast to the cross in my most fearful moments, finding solace in the Word of God.
Isaiah 41:10, “fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.”
Proverbs 3:5-6, “Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make straight your paths.
These two verses are my kids’ life verses that we recite with them every night. I had never guessed that these verses would help carry me through my cancer. I cling to these daily reminders that God sees my pain, my sorrow, and my fear. And when I look back at Him, He shows me how he’s turning my pain into purpose, my sorrow into rejoicing, and my fear into faith (Romans 14:8).
Editor’s Note: October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month, and we are grateful to Prairie for courageously sharing her story. For more resources: Breast Cancer Research Foundation, Bright Spot Network for cancer survivors who are parents of young children, and the American Cancer Society.
Header Photo Credit: Angiola Harry