It Strikes Me...

Prov. 31:25 (NLT)“She is clothed with strength and dignity, and she laughs without fear of the future.” 

It strikes me…

Well, it hit me again, I was walking through Wal-Mart and it strikes me as odd at a number of people not even paying attention to what they’re buying. They just look, grab, and place the merchandise in the cart. Me, I’m scanning every label, reading every ingredient, more times than not replacing the product back on the shelf, even when it says organic.

Now that I know what I’m looking for at the store, it sure makes shopping much easier, because I can avoid the aisles with stuff I don’t need and if hubby wants something, he goes off on his own to get it without making me venture down the ‘toxic aisles’.

Then something hit me this week. I rounded the bakery section and was heading to the checkout and it caught my eye, a pink shirt with the decal on it ‘FIGHT FOR THE CURE’. As I got closer to the shirt, touched it, looked at the bold lettering and the pink ribbon, tears began to well up in my eyes, but I didn’t want to cry in Wal Mart. I knew what the shirt was saying, I knew all too well. 

You see, I always looked at those things and just became saddened for other women who fought, were fighting, or had lost someone. But for me? I never associated the pink with me. I never saw myself as a ‘one day that’ll be me’, no, I never let it cross my mind, I never grasped that straw.

And here I was gazing down at the pink shirt, touching the fabric, running my fingers over the letters and realizing it is me. That decal is referring to me. I’m one of them; one of the hundreds of thousands of women who this pink ribbon stands for. I felt small, I felt like an ant in the middle of the store with all the big humans passing by not seeing me carrying the heavy crumb. They were passing by not giving me a second glance. I was nothing on their radar. They were hurried and rushed and I stood there just looking at this shirt.

I let it go. I didn’t want the pink, I didn’t want to associate with what the shirt stood for. I in no way wanted any part of it. Just like the disease that is running through the very cells of my body, I don’t want any part of it. I seek normal, I just want what I deemed to be normal back and yet as I run my mind through the reality of it all, I have to let it go. Normal will never come back and this new lifestyle is the new normal for me. I have to accept that.

As we were driving home I asked my husband what the shirt said. My brain to me said FIGHT THE CURE, and my husband said no, it said fight FOR the cure. So as I held that pink shirt in my fingers, my mind was telling me a truth FIGHT THE CURE. That is my reality. THAT is the shirt I want to wear.

To me fighting FOR the cure could mean giving the oncologist their rights in filling innocent women with poisons. It is putting your support behind the victimization going on and treating everyone like little gathering ants. Give them a crumb here and there but don’t you dare give them wings! Ants can’t fly and by allowing them to think they can is going to start an entire new breed of ants! Fight FOR the cure could also mean that there has been no cure found. The oncologists give you pacifying drugs but chemo is in NO WAY the cure, so we women must FIGHT FOR THE CURE to be found.

And to me FIGHTING the CURE means just that, fight the very thing that doctors are feeding millions of women. Fight what truth they believe and set out to find your own leg to stand on. Fight everything they hold like poisons to be the ‘cure’. Because as I’ve learned over these past eight months, the doctors are only selling you what the pharmaceuticals are selling them. I could be 100% wrong, but again, all that I’ve learned in the past eight months tells me that I and thousands of other people are feeling the same thing I am and trusting their instincts and finding what works for them!

Our bodies were created with an immune system. That immune system is in place as a healing mechanism that the human body utilizes. To me, not trusting God’s creating abilities, is in a sense not trusting God at all. When you look at a DNA strand, do you realize how intricate that strand is and all it stands for? The strand is God in an intimate shower within you.

Hebrews 4:16, “Let us then approach God’s throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need.” (NIV)

When you were little, didn’t you come to depend and trust your father? You looked up to him and held him in the highest esteem and trust. When he told you something, you believed it to be true and to this day, I can almost guarantee you utter the words from time to time, “My daddy always said…”
Why would we think that our Heavenly Father is any different than ‘our daddy’? 

If truth be told. God is our daddy and we can trust Him as we walk. Just like your earthly father, He will never lead us down the wrong path. We’ll stumble, we’ll fall but he’ll see to it that his gentle loving hand lifts you back up and sets you on the right path again. We just have to trust Him like we trusted our daddy all of our lives. He did NOT give me this illness, that’s like saying he led down the wrong path like he made me destroy my body. Nope, we all know where sin comes from and my torturous life led me to this illness, not God. 

It strikes me as kind of odd that people put more trust in a human than the intricate, intimate Creator. Maybe it’s just me; maybe I’m the odd one. I separate myself from this disease so it doesn’t own me. I face the enemy with the Sword of Truth. I strike the lies before it strikes me!

James 4:8, “Draw near to God, and he will draw near to you. Cleanse your hands, you sinners, and purify your hearts, you double-minded.” (ESV)