August 10th…

…is the day the nightmare began two years ago. The day I picked up the phone to hear, “Can you be at the doctor’s office at 12:45? He’d like to see you to discuss your biopsy results.” The day I looked at my doctor and knew what would come out of his mouth before I heard, “I wish there was a better way to tell you…” The day I found out I had breast cancer.

The day monsters became real.

August 10th is the day I clung to my Brian because I didn’t know if I could walk out on my own. The day I, who usually shy away from the center of attention, stood in the middle of a parking lot and wept not caring how many people passed by. The day I had to tell my mom over the phone that her baby had cancer and then head to another appointment.

August 10th is the day I listened to my surgeon give me all my options but heard nothing. The day we left the surgeon’s office together to find Guest Blogger Joe sitting on our car waiting to be with us. The day we stood in that parking lot and helped someone we didn’t know who had car problems. The day numbness became a way of life.

August 10th is the day of phone calls to friends and family, frantic and frenetic. The day of trying to shield a 5, 3, and 1 year old from a topsy-turvy world knowing it would all eventually crash in on them. The day of nausea and horror and fear that washed over in waves indescribable.

August 10th is the day I began sleeping with my Bible. The day of nightmares. The day of questions and confusion. The day this part of our journey began.

August 10th is the day I began to see God on a whole new level. The day my walk with Him changed, intensified. The day worship became real as I sang truth with my husband that night before bed. The day I learned not to take anything for granted and to live every moment.

August 10th is the day I will never forget.

But as crazy as it seems…

August 10th is a day for which I am truly grateful.

11 responses to “August 10th…”

  1. That was just beautiful, friend. Beautiful. What a horrifying day, and yet you see the beauty in the ashes. You are lovely.

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  2. As I sit here weeping and remembering….I praise God for His goodness and that I am still able to see you, be with you, talk to you and help you!

    I praise God for all that He is teaching you and for all that He is teaching me through you!

    I’ll love you forever!

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  3. This post brings the gamut of emotions. I am so glad that God healed your body, but I am so sad for the pain that you suffered and still suffer. I am so glad that God gave you an awakened relationship with Him, but I am so sad for the tunnel that you walked through. My heart rejoices with you, but my heart grieves with you.

    In the now, but not yet,
    maretta

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  4. I can’t imagine this type of day, but have had similar situations with my child. It never ceases to amaze me how pronounced God becomes during the darkest moments of our lives.

    Thank you for sharing such a personal moment and memory with us! What an encouragement and challenge to keep pushing forward…

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  5. Thank you for allowing us to weep and pray with you along this journey. What a blessing it has been to see God with you, in you, and through you.

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  6. judieyoung@hotmail.com Avatar
    judieyoung@hotmail.com

    My dear Angie, my precious adopted daughter

    What a blessing it is to have you in my life. Sweetie, I just discovered something yesterday at church while singing the song that Robert Murray M’Cheyne wrote the words to, and I am assuming, that the Brian D. who did the music is your husband. The music to these words fit perfect. What a blessing this is to all of us. You both are special and I love you deeply.

    In a journey that transforms us into His image. To God be the glory.

    Blessings,
    Judie

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  7. Angie – thank you for sharing this journey. I am so moved by your words and your experiences. I continue to keep you and your family in my prayers. How true it is to “not to take anything for granted and to live every moment.”

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  8. You know, I can’t say that I have been through anything as traumatic as what you all have experienced, but I do know this. God has taught me that through brokenness, He is glorified. Through brokenness, we are made whole. Thanks for being an example of this truth. Thanks for being there for me while I’ve gone through my own time of brokenness, too. In our weakness, He is made strong. Thanks be to God.

    Love you all, and can’t wait to see you soon!

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  9. Oh Angie. I can’t imagine your journey. I can’t imagine the fear and the feelings…you are doing a marvelous job with this life of yours. I think you help the rest of us realize how beautiful life is.

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  10. Angie – I read this post when you first wrote it, before anyone else had commented and I was at a complete loss for words that didn’t seem hollow…now, I read and see that others have so eloquently put into words what I couldn’t.

    I can’t tell you what reading your blog and your story and ‘getting to know you’ has meant to my life. Your relationship with God and understanding of Him is so inspiring to me.

    It breaks my heart for you that monsters had to become real, and at the same time it gives me such hope that you are on this earth and sharing with others just what it means to praise God in the storm; to understand that while we can’t always understand, He is always there.

    Thank-you, as always, for sharing your journey.

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  11. Angie,
    It has been a blessing to be able to read your blog, to follow the craziness of the road that cancer put you on, and to be reading this post 2 years later. I have cried for you, prayed for you and your family, cried out to the Lord for you. I have seen through words what an ugly time sickness and cancer can be…what a thief illness can be, yet I have seen the spiritual brokeness, and blessings, and the faith, at times just the faith as a grain of mustard seed, that has been supplied, then multiplied by God. You are not the same person…you have been changed…some of that sad, but much of that for good. And 2 years isn’t really that long. You are still looking for and adjusting to what your “new normal” is going to be. (I am hoping to find a “new normal”) One of the things that encourages me most, is the happiness I’ve seen in all the photos over the last 2 years, even during the times of sickness. You have a happy, devoted family, and are doing a wonderful job loving them. And it is easy to see just how much Brian and the kids love you. God bless you Angie. Keep being transparent. You never know how many young women and mothers you are touching.

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