Saturday, March 24, 2012

Scarred & Saved.


From the Heart of Abigail Joy...

Ugh. Every bone inside of my body is anxious and eager to jump up and move...to run and never stop…I need to move...Need to get out. The band Switchfoot has a song…Dare you to move. Well I’m being triple-dog-dared to move because I’m yearning to jump up and out of here. To live my life with purpose...

Each morning when I get up and get dressed I am reminded that I was saved. Physically saved. A six inch scar across your stomach will do that. Being a cancer survivor will do that.

I was born with hemi-hypertrophy. That is a long medical term meaning I am an alien. Not really…but my family teases me and calls me an alien...in love…for my condition. The right side of my body is bigger than the left. Children born with this condition have a higher risk of getting a kidney cancer called Wilm’s tumor. Well long story short…when I was little my mother was tickling me on the floor and she felt something unusual in my stomach…which turned out to be a large tumor overtaking my right kidney. So I live with one kidney and a 6 inch scar where the right one used to live.

When people discover the fact that I had cancer, their eyes usually widen with concern & curiosity. 5 out of 10 times, they ask me if I am ok. I gladly assure them that I am in the clear. And then I tell them that this all happened when I was 3-4 years old. I’m not blind…I didn’t have cancer in my eyes…I see facial expressions change when they discover just how young I was. I see their doubtful glances when I say I remember most of it.
I remember smells. I remember faces. I remember being in a hospital and doing crafts, puzzles, the toys in the play room. I remember the food. I remember the movies I used to watch over and over as I lay in bed. I remember conversations with the doctors. I am still this way today…before anything was done I have to know exactly what was going to be done, what instruments they were going to use, and how long it was going to take…I remember picking out a prize from the cardboard box that sat under the doctor’s chair after needles. I remember seeing my best friend’s mom after my surgery and her grabbing my hand as they wheeled me back to my room. I remember losing my hair. I remember the large selection of hats I acquired but always choosing the same one to wear. I remember the balloons and get well cards. I remember the visiting people. I remember going to birthday parties but having to sit inside out of the sun while the other kids ran outside to play games because of the medicine I was taking.
I remember sitting on the bed with my mom and asking Jesus to come live in my heart and my mom telling me Jesus was celebrating because I chose to follow Him (and to me…I was sure this meant Jesus was throwing a party in Heaven that included hats, balloons, and an invitation list that included Mary, Joseph, Moses, and all of the famous Bible characters we learned about in Sunday school.)

I learned early how fragile life really is…I am truly thankful God saved me.

But I do question. Why me? I remember the other children that were in the hospital at the same time as me but they didn’t survive. Why did God choose me? We have experienced death in our family. I have brothers who were born too early and passed away. Why did God choose me to live? Asking “Why” questions…you know will never be answered on this side of Heaven can be a dangerous road to travel down.

I do wrestle with these emotions and thoughts. When I hear of children passing and losing the battle to cancer my heart breaks and I wish I could take their place. I do not know why certain things happen.
“All of my life…in every season…God is still God…I have a reason to sing…I have a reason to Worship!!”

It reminds me of why we are here.
We are here for our Savior. It all goes back to digging in the word, giving Him your time, to live life with God’s strength working through you. We can do nothing on our own. Less of us and more of You Father!! We are here to win souls for Christ and to make disciples. We are here to love. We are here to get up…to move…to follow JESUS and to live. A life of action and PURPOSE.

I am scarred and reminded daily that I was saved physically… DAILY I hold the scarred hand of my Savior who captured my heart...and I’m reminded that my soul was saved for eternity.

What a beautiful reminder. You may not be a cancer survivor. But the scarred hands of our Savior is reminder enough that we were saved by grace for a reason and purpose!!
We all have something in common. We are all going to die. We are all going to one day take our final breath…until that moment comes…do not waste a breath…
Get up...move…truly live with the purpose God intended us all to live with…go!…

I triple-dog-dare you!!

1 comment:

  1. Abigail,
    Thank you for sharing your story, it is an amazing story. Your love for Christ and life shines through your words.

    Blessings!

    Jan

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