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…