Survivor

Today, I finish my last treatment for breast cancer. Almost nine months to the day after my Stage IIIB diagnosis, I will walk out of the hospital cancer-free. Bloodied. Bruised. Burnt. Battered. And very weary from the battle. But cancer free. In a few weeks, I return to the hospital…

Redemption

This morning, September 11, I watched as people gathered at the National September 11 Memorial, site of the new One World Trade Center. I noticed the water in the two fountains streaming down beneath the names of those lost on that horrific day. I couldn’t decide if the waters symbolize…

Sinners and Saints

Ang’s Facebook post was the first item in my newsfeed as I did one last social media check before going to bed. “Writing my first-ever sermon for class. Focusing on the refugee crisis and how it relates to the Book of Ruth. Any ideas on imagery? Focus area(s)? Neeeeeeeeeeervous.” Suddenly,…

Held

My hands shake a lot these days. Whether from chemo, meds, or sheer fatigue, my hands often betray the intensity of the fight taking place at cellular levels to kill off and overcome cancer. In many ways, it seems fitting, really, that my hands are the telltale sign of the…