A Biopsy & Advent
I went to the doctor in November for a check up, and what was supposed to be just a usual check up where they tell me I'm healthy and well, ended with my doctor finding a lump in my breast that she wanted me to get checked out. A week later I went for an ultrasound of the lump, and from the ultrasound the doctor decided they wanted to take a biopsy of it. I tried to stay really calm and unconcerned, but when the word "biopsy" was uttered I would be lying if I said I wasn't scared.
Three weeks after the ultrasound, I went for the biopsy. For some reason, I thought I would feel less anxious after the biopsy, but it ended up being the longest, fearful 48 hours I've experienced in a long time.
I knew the chances of it being cancerous were low, but there was still a chance. I tried not to tell a lot of people. I didn't want to make a big deal about it. I felt silly for being so anxious, so I tried to play it cool... but really I was terrified.
I wish I could tell you that I was great at the waiting game during this entire month-long ordeal, that I prayed calmly and my prayers sounded like, "Jesus, I know you've gone before me in this. I'm not worried at all! Love you."
But they were more desperate. Pleading, really.
"Jesus, I just took all these steps towards my dream of traveling nursing. I am so close to doing what I've dreamed of doing for a long time, please don't take that away from me."
"Please don't let this be a part of the story I'm supposed to live. I don't want it. I know I've told you that I would face anything you gave me in this life and I would do it for your glory...but I really don't want this. I'll do it if I have to, but please don't make me."
I grew up in the church and while I am so thankful for that, I think sometimes it makes church things dull. Advent was one of those things for me. I would hear the word and I knew it had something to do with the Christmas season, but until this year I had no idea what it really was. I hadn't paid attention. It was a few days after my doctor's appointment that I started to hear the word "Advent" everywhere so I became curious and started researching it.
Advent, for the Church, is the 4 Sundays leading up to Christmas. But it's more than just reading some scripture and lighting some candles on a wreath. It's a season anticipating Christmas, Jesus' birth. It parallels the way we celebrate his birth, when he came to Earth, with anticipating his coming again some day.
Advent is a season of waiting, of remembering what it is we're waiting for: that Jesus promised He would be back, and we are waiting for Him to fulfill that promise. Ironically, the day of my ultrasound when I found out I had to have a biopsy, I told my friend that I was suddenly learning all of these things about Advent and that I was enthralled with it. I said that I thought it was incredibly beautiful to be reminded about being purposeful and mindful in waiting. I did a lot of waiting after that day when I spoke those words, but I was able to see parts of the Christmas/Advent season paralleled in my story with this stupid lump in my breast.
The only way I found a little peace while waiting to hear either "malignant" or "benign" was being able to remember that this waiting was hard, but I'm waiting for something bigger, and I'm waiting with purpose. When I would start to get anxious, I would remember that I wanted to spend more energy anticipating Christ than anticipating test results. When I would lie awake at night trying to picture which way my life would go depending on what word I heard, I would remember that Christmas is when Jesus came to earth and became Emmanuel, God with us. He was born to die for me--He provided a sacrifice for my sins, and He would provide whatever I needed no matter what the test results were.
When I got the call yesterday at work and the word "benign" was spoken, I quietly slipped into the linen closet and cried the most joyful, relieved tears I ever have. And while I was crying and laughing and feeling like I could breathe after holding my breath for a whole month, I thought, "I waited for and anticipated these results for what felt like forever, and I had no idea what they would be. How much sweeter it is that I'm waiting for a promise I know will be fulfilled when Jesus comes back or I get to Heaven and all my anticipation is matched with the relief of my Savior."
Friends, I have this hope deep in my bones that I want for you to have, too.
Maybe you're waiting for biopsy results like I was. Maybe you're waiting for a the adoption process to be finalized, for the promotion, for a ring. Maybe you didn't get the same kind of phone call I did, and now you're waiting for healing. We're all waiting for something.
So this Christmas/Advent season, whatever it is that you're waiting for, I hope you can find purpose in waiting if you know you are waiting for something bigger. And while you don't know what will happen with the things you're waiting for now, there is comfort in knowing that you're waiting for something promised.
Three weeks after the ultrasound, I went for the biopsy. For some reason, I thought I would feel less anxious after the biopsy, but it ended up being the longest, fearful 48 hours I've experienced in a long time.
I knew the chances of it being cancerous were low, but there was still a chance. I tried not to tell a lot of people. I didn't want to make a big deal about it. I felt silly for being so anxious, so I tried to play it cool... but really I was terrified.
I wish I could tell you that I was great at the waiting game during this entire month-long ordeal, that I prayed calmly and my prayers sounded like, "Jesus, I know you've gone before me in this. I'm not worried at all! Love you."
But they were more desperate. Pleading, really.
"Jesus, I just took all these steps towards my dream of traveling nursing. I am so close to doing what I've dreamed of doing for a long time, please don't take that away from me."
"Please don't let this be a part of the story I'm supposed to live. I don't want it. I know I've told you that I would face anything you gave me in this life and I would do it for your glory...but I really don't want this. I'll do it if I have to, but please don't make me."
I grew up in the church and while I am so thankful for that, I think sometimes it makes church things dull. Advent was one of those things for me. I would hear the word and I knew it had something to do with the Christmas season, but until this year I had no idea what it really was. I hadn't paid attention. It was a few days after my doctor's appointment that I started to hear the word "Advent" everywhere so I became curious and started researching it.
Advent, for the Church, is the 4 Sundays leading up to Christmas. But it's more than just reading some scripture and lighting some candles on a wreath. It's a season anticipating Christmas, Jesus' birth. It parallels the way we celebrate his birth, when he came to Earth, with anticipating his coming again some day.
Advent is a season of waiting, of remembering what it is we're waiting for: that Jesus promised He would be back, and we are waiting for Him to fulfill that promise. Ironically, the day of my ultrasound when I found out I had to have a biopsy, I told my friend that I was suddenly learning all of these things about Advent and that I was enthralled with it. I said that I thought it was incredibly beautiful to be reminded about being purposeful and mindful in waiting. I did a lot of waiting after that day when I spoke those words, but I was able to see parts of the Christmas/Advent season paralleled in my story with this stupid lump in my breast.
The only way I found a little peace while waiting to hear either "malignant" or "benign" was being able to remember that this waiting was hard, but I'm waiting for something bigger, and I'm waiting with purpose. When I would start to get anxious, I would remember that I wanted to spend more energy anticipating Christ than anticipating test results. When I would lie awake at night trying to picture which way my life would go depending on what word I heard, I would remember that Christmas is when Jesus came to earth and became Emmanuel, God with us. He was born to die for me--He provided a sacrifice for my sins, and He would provide whatever I needed no matter what the test results were.
When I got the call yesterday at work and the word "benign" was spoken, I quietly slipped into the linen closet and cried the most joyful, relieved tears I ever have. And while I was crying and laughing and feeling like I could breathe after holding my breath for a whole month, I thought, "I waited for and anticipated these results for what felt like forever, and I had no idea what they would be. How much sweeter it is that I'm waiting for a promise I know will be fulfilled when Jesus comes back or I get to Heaven and all my anticipation is matched with the relief of my Savior."
Friends, I have this hope deep in my bones that I want for you to have, too.
Maybe you're waiting for biopsy results like I was. Maybe you're waiting for a the adoption process to be finalized, for the promotion, for a ring. Maybe you didn't get the same kind of phone call I did, and now you're waiting for healing. We're all waiting for something.
So this Christmas/Advent season, whatever it is that you're waiting for, I hope you can find purpose in waiting if you know you are waiting for something bigger. And while you don't know what will happen with the things you're waiting for now, there is comfort in knowing that you're waiting for something promised.
"So now we pause. Still. Ponder. Hush. Wait. Each day of Advent, He gives you the gift of time, so you have time to be still and wait. Wait for the coming of the God in the manger who makes himself bread for us near starved. For the savior in swaddlings who makes himself the robe of righteousness for us worn out. For Jesus, who makes precisely what none of us can, but all of us want: Christmas."
"Advent is a season of preparation, a season for making room in our hearts once again for this simple, profound truth: Christ is the light of men. He is coming, He has come, and He will come again." 
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