Having a Moment

Lou's alarm went off at 5:00 AM (I rolled over like a possum).  My alarm went off at 5:30 AM...and then again at 5:37 AM.  Chemo was scheduled for 8:00 AM and Lou wanted to be on the road by 6:00 AM.  He nagged "If we get there earlier than your appointment, they'll take you sooner and we might be able to get out of there quicker".  I can't just roll out of bed like some boy.  I need a quick hose and I need to make sure I have the necessities for the day including my blood thinner shot, some crackers and of course, my makeup.  There wouldn't be time to carefully apply my Lancôme in the house but I can always pretty up on the way.  Never mind the potholes - I just need my makeup, the lighted mirror from the car's sun visor and I got this. 

(Lou and I left 10 minutes after 6, whateva, I got out of the house in record time...and I thought we were leaving too early anyway.)

We walked out of the house into the unforgiving frigid air.  The early morning ice cold smack in the face just topped off the previous several days that had been a little unkind to me.  I'm miles away from my "normal" self.  Mostly house bound and bored, I would detail the side effects that have intensified recently, but I'd no doubt sound like a 90 year old woman complaining how her grandchildren never visit her.  Old woman, no one wants to hear it.  I'll just say this.  If you leaned into my face after my right ear drum's DJ spun the high pitched hit "Ca-Ca-Chemo Tinnitus", and shouted "GRANDMA...HOW ARE YOU FEEEEELING TODAAAY?" my response would start with "let me tell you about my violent medically controlled acid reflux" and conclude with "did I tell you I pee weird?".  
 
Walking toward the car, cranky me started a conversation with God. "Lord, it's cold, I don't feel well and I'm tired. Is this all worth it?".  I felt a few warm tears roll down my chilled cheeks and did my best to quietly open the door to take the passenger seat.  As I sat down and pulled my seat belt forward, I desperately fought back the tears so as not to alarm my husband.  Then Lou started the car.  The moment the key hit the ignition, blasting through the speakers I heard the start of a chorus, as though being sung only to me:

"We were made to be courageous"

Just like that, a line from a song I've casually heard 1,000 times before took on a whole new meaning. It never stops amazing me that the God of all creation not only knows but cares so much to reach little old me (all of us) right on time.  I laughed and thanked Him for the gentle reminder. Those cranky tears were now grateful. No matter what the outcome, march on little soldier, march on!

Psalm 30:11-12 - You turned my wailing into dancing; you removed my sackcloth and clothed me with joy, that my heart may sing to you and not be silent. O LORD my God, I will give you thanks forever.

And now, Casting Crowns - "Courageous":

Oh, I'm sorry.  You say you want to know if Lou was right about waking me from my peaceful slumber to leave the house before the rooster crowed?  Yes, he was.  We were back home shoving Turkish food in our faces by 1:00 PM.  That is all.

"Courageous" -