Corey is my best friend, but I had the opportunity to spend a morning with my girl BFF last week. She’s the one who shares my disinterest in girly things like shopping and jewelry. The one who has navigated boy mom world with me from day one. The one I call when my kiddos do something amazing like backflip off a picnic table. And the one I call when this job of “momming” is knocking the wind out of me. She’s a gift.
I’ve even shown her my bare chest. I know that sounds so weird and wrong, but stick with me here. I live in post-breast cancer world, so my normal is no longer a normal person’s normal. When you’ve had your breasts removed and rebuilt, and you’ve had a stranger tattoo on them to provide a sense of normalcy and scar coverage, you just want your best friend to see them and say “You don’t look weird.” And then you laugh together over the fact that you seriously just flashed her. And then you pause in the somber reality that it was a malignant tumor that brought you to this strange place.
I’ve found that since this whole cancer thing happened, there are moments I just need reassurance that I am normal. I need assurance from Corey that I’m beautiful. And I need assurance from my friends that I’m not a weirdo. Don’t we all need a cheerleading squad sometimes?
Enveloped in support of those who love me, I need to plant myself firmly in God’s word which tells me I am created in His image. [bctt tweet=”And I need to trust that even with a slightly altered body, I am deeply cherished by the God of the universe.” username=”@kimkayeharms”]. And I need to believe that He works good through the hard.
Maybe your life has been altered in some way by cancer, and maybe not. Regardless, we all walk through hard things. Don’t be afraid to lean on those who love you.(This likely will not require you to flash your BFF.) And more importantly, don’t discount the God who brings beauty from ashes. (The One who can take your broken, unnormal self and make you whole.)
and provide for those who grieve in Zion—
to bestow on them a crown of beauty
instead of ashes,
the oil of joy
instead of mourning,
and a garment of praise
instead of a spirit of despair.
They will be called oaks of righteousness,
a planting of the Lord
for the display of his splendor. Isaiah 61:3
Reading this reminded me of how I was once so modest and now am willing to show anyone my scarred chest that’s interested – well, almost anyone. 🙂 My reconstructed breast doesn’t feel real to me, it’s akin to showing someone a carrot and telling them it’s my finger. No, it’s not. I’m thankful you have a good cheerleading squad – we could all benefit from that! God bless ~ Kim
Mine are beginning to feel more like they are a part of “me” now, but they are nothing like the real thing. Corey are I were just joking the other night that they are a part of me, just not part of the original 🙂