Angel Armies

Abstract, Drop, H2O, Rain, Nature

Have you ever noticed how many sounds are in the quiet places in your life? Have you ever longingly waited for a phone call or for a letter from someone whom you adore? Have you found yourself holding your breath when you saw something amazing before your eyes? Can you recall a time when you waited for a baby to be born? I bet you can remember an old commercial illustrating anticipation as we all waited for ketchup to roll out of the bottle.

 

When cancer treatment is over and your hair grows back, anticipation remains. My loved ones have moved on, the emergency is over. God has set me down and is expecting me to walk again. The bubble that I’ve lived in for the past 15 months is dissolving. My energy is back and I’m crossing things off of my bucket list, but anticipation just won’t disappear. Everything is returning to normal. However, I am not normal anymore… or then again, some might say I never was!

 

I see things so differently now. I have incredible moments of clarity, but there are moments when my head is submerged in the clouds. This vanishing cocoon of affection, protection and weekly Dr.’s visits alarms me. Don’t you see that I will never be the same again? I will hang my hat on HOPE for the rest of my days and anticipation will nestle itself in my soul for a while longer to make my heart race.

 

Constant encouragement and supervision of my health, dare I say, has rendered me handicapped somehow in some way? My last chemo treatment was the most terrifying of all because it meant that we wouldn’t be killing cancer anymore. How do I know we got it all? How do I know it won’t start to grow again? Anticipation.

 

The overwhelming love and attention received was a great distraction and shelter from my reality.  The doctors have faded back out of view; the flowers and meals have stopped coming and the tender encouragement is diminishing. This weaning makes me want to grip dependence, because it feels lonely.  It’s  unpleasant and necessary to get sober in thought. It’s a terribly needy place to rise from and one I don’t want to be seen in.

 

This is the quiet place in life. It’s  after a near miss. It’s when the whirlwind storm is over. This is normal again?  Not so much! Dear Lord, let me hear the sound of your Angel Armies in my quiet place. Let my mind be strong and my tomorrow bright.

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