Dear Me, your Cape is the Wrong Color

For those of you following along, this is week 3 (days 21-28) of Corey’s first round of treatment, which means Corey actually gets a break from the chemotherapy drugs this week.  Yay!  There are, of course, other drugs he’s taking daily during this week, but he gets a break from the two chemo drugs, soan that’s nice.

We start round 2 on Friday, with another dose of steroids, the bone-strengthening infusion, a chemo injection and the restarting of the oral chemo pills.  Dear Lord, please help me not to stick my foot in my mouth if we run into our City Councilwoman again…  We do have the same scheduler, a lovely woman named Marge, and I wonder if they requested a different time than “those people over there…” when we were there last.

Oh man, I don’t want to be “those people.”   My poor husband.


I completely missed an appointment the other day.  I pulled into work, feeling like I wasn’t supposed to be there.  I walked upstairs to my office, was turning on my laptop and getting settled when my phone rang.

“Hey, are you almost here?”

Pause; sigh; furrowed brow.  “That was today?  I’m so sorry!  I can leave right now and be there in 20 minutes.”

“No, that’s totally OK.  We’ll take pictures and get the info and I’ll touch base with you about it later in the day.”

I’m not going to lie, I almost cried.  Right then and there, I almost cried.

My buddy from work on the other end of the line was super gracious.  He always is.  It wasn’t the kind of appointment that was going to leave someone in the lurch, but still.  I’m trying really hard to keep all the proverbial balls in the air and lately I feel like I’m not doing a very good job of it.

I went downstairs a bit later in the day and ran into a super sweet lady I work with that I’ve been getting to know (and consequently, like) more and more over the past few months.  She and her husband run one of the ministries at our church and her brother has the exact same kind of cancer as Corey.  Big coincidence in a small world?  Or divine placement of her in my life?  I’m going with the latter.

She asked how I was doing and I told her, “OK… but not great.”  I told her about my missed appointment that morning and how much it bothered me.  Because, in truth, I cannot tell you how much I don’t want to be “that person” either.

I don’t want to be the “that’s OK, you’ve got so much going on” person.  Because, who doesn’t have “so much going on?”  Unless you’re the type who has a personal chef, personal assistant, personal trainer, personal shopper, housekeeper, etc., then we all have a lot going on.  My “a lot going on” may look different than your “a lot going on” but your “a lot going on” still feels like a lot, does it not?

I’m so grateful Corey hasn’t been super sick up to this point.  The fatigue, like I’ve mentioned before, has been the biggest side effect to date, but other things are starting to pop up here and there.  And I think, just because it’s what we do, I’ve been taking on more and more so that he doesn’t feel like he has to do more than he can, and so that nothing falls through the cracks.  And in taking on more and more, the hastily constructed wall I threw up when I flipped that mental switch to “Here we go” mode upon hearing his diagnosis, has begun cracking.

Bit by bit.

And it’s just dawning on me that I’m pretty sure this is exactly where the Lord wants me.

Dog gone it, this is hard to admit.  The Superwoman cape I’ve been sporting the past 6 weeks has turned out to be pretty ill-fitting.  I think when I reached into the wardrobe that day, I grabbed the wrong piece.  Turns out He gets the Savior-of-the-world cape, and I get a cape that’s the shade of, well, letting go.

Corey never asked me to take on more and more.  He could care less if the floor has been vacuumed today or if the towel in the downstairs guest bathroom has been changed.  He could care less if the spaghetti sauce is out of a jar this time around instead of the simmer-all-day, made-from-scratch kind I like to make.  “Let it fall through the cracks!” is what he’d say.  If I asked him, which I haven’t.

I’m pretty sure that’s what the Lord would say too.  If I asked Him, which I haven’t.

I’m pretty sure He sees this cracking as a beautiful breaking.  Because in my brokenness, in my weakness, He is made perfect.  He is made to shine.

I’ve read and read that His yoke is easy and His burden is light, but I read that with fresh eyes today.  Gracious eyes.  I re-read in Isaiah where He promised to be with me as HE delivers me through the rivers that will not sweep over me, through the fire that will not burn me; that HE alone is my Redeemer and my Savior.

I’m a Martha.  Lord have mercy, I’m a Martha.  But today I’m reminded that it was Mary about whom Jesus said, “she has chosen what is better”  when she chose to sit at Jesus’ feet (Luke 10:38-42).  Yes, there’s work to be done.  Lots of work to be done, perhaps more than usual, but I need to be reminded to put on the cape of “letting go” and just rest sometimes.  And to not be so hard on myself when I do.

I can’t promise I’ll be good at this (I’m a bit of a Type A personality, for those of you who don’t know me too well), but I can promise to try.  And will you promise to call me out if you see me trying to wrestle into that Superwoman cape again?  Turns out ill-fitting superhero costumes aren’t very flattering…

15 thoughts on “Dear Me, your Cape is the Wrong Color

  1. Mindy you are amazing. I love reading the journey through your eyes and being so vulnerable. It is admirable to me as you and I have similar personalities when it comes to “do it all”. As I am reading your blog with tears in my eyes of how powerful your words are and need to sink in to probably many of us as I know I’m at the top of the list. Mindy my friend you are strong, beautiful and loved.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Mindy you have a gift in your writing with this blog, thank u for sharing this journey and know that many prayers are said for you and Corey along with your sweet children.
    Hugs 🙏🙏🙏🙏 much❤

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Such a good post, Mindy. I know what you mean about Martha. You come by it honestly, honey. BTW, I’ve always felt she got a bum rap. BUT, you’re right, Jesus did say MARY had chosen the better way. Shoot.

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  4. Beautifully put, my friend. You’re not alone, Min. We’re all guilty of this from time to time as wives, as moms, as women in business. We put so much pressure on ourselves with our everyday things that when something big (like this) happens we’re already chock full with no more room. Still we say “pile it on” and that’s when we crack. Please remember the “everyday” things don’t matter as much during this season in your life. Let little things slide. Everyone WILL understand and it’s not a “lacking” on your part. You can only take on so much. Let people help when they offer help. Even if it is something you think is so minute…those minute things add up fast. Sometimes I’m reminded of that old song “Let Go and Let God”. It’s always been a “hokey” old song in my memory but in meditating on that one line-wow! Yes, it’s easier said than done, but everytime a friend, a family member, a co-worker, a kind stranger, a city council woman (sorry couldn’t help myself 😀) offers anything, no matter how big or small, say yes and “let God”, That’s Him helping to lift your burdens and not letting the waters flood you. Love you! ❤️

    Liked by 1 person

    • So true, my friend. A friend brought us dinner the other night. Didn’t ask ahead of time because they knew I’d probably say no (Ha!!) but it was such a wonderfully unexpected blessing. I always feel so blessed by helping others and now it’s my turn to let others receive the blessing of helping us out. It’s humbling and stretching but I know God wants to do so much greater in me, in all of us, during this season. So I’ve gotta let Him! Love you, buddy.


  5. Mindy, you are such a dear; being real, open and vulnerable. You are showing everyone who is on this journey with you how the Lord helps us in spite of what we may or may not do … I get it! You will no doubt hear the phrase “chemo brain” when it comes to how Corey experiences life during this process; sometimes I wondered if it was catching! :>)

    Know you are all loved and in my regular prayers!!

    Liked by 1 person

    • Ha! You’re so funny, Glenice! I feel like the fatigue is catching for sure. 😉 Thank you for all of your encouragement. Knowing how you walked this journey with such grace & strength has been a wonderful model.


  6. It is hard to put into words how painful it is for me to read these beautiful & very powerful words. My heart aches for all of you & my faith soars because of your strength. Mom & I love you guys & are praying with you.

    Liked by 1 person

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