How Do You Thank God Enough? Coco's Journey; Chapter 16

by Larry Puls  @larrypulsauthor

One Woman's Journey Through Ovarian Cancer

In the elevator accompanied by only her daughter and husband, she leaned over and gave them a deep embrace. It was a wonderful moment of joy that could not be contained. Coco's tight hug symbolized the thankfulness she had for their support during her cancer journey--and for the fact that she had arrived at a place such as this.

Remission. 

The word resonated in her mind. Did the doctor really say that? But as she asked her family to verify it, they both acknowledged it with smiles on their faces. Remission. Such a sweet word, and so coveted. She pinched herself. This was not a dream.

Then suddenly a question popped into her mind: “Why me?” It’s not that she didn’t want it to be her, or that heaven forbid she had hoped for anything less. But the question persisted, why me and not someone else? A vision swept into her mind of her friend Marcia Covington—the one dying from cancer. She had not been so lucky. Why wasn’t she in remission? She didn’t know.

The elevator doors slid open. Stepping out, she gazed out over the sea of people waiting for something—appointments, x-rays, blood draws, whatever. When she walked through the lobby her eyes beheld all those souls--scared and bewildered—none of them were different from her. So many bald heads. Scarves. Forlorn expressions. Unspoken suffering. And yet when she observed them, she realized she was one of them. She was on their journey. Her head was bald. She wore a scarf. Her joints reminded her of the chemo. She pondered how many of them were on a road that would yield a happy ending, and how many of them were on one that would not end so well. 

Making it outside to the waiting area, she opted to sit and let her husband and daughter retrieve the car. Though her daughter wanted to stay, she encouraged her to go on. She wanted a solitary moment. And she needed that time. All she had had time for since her glowing report was to cry, but what she wanted to do now was more than that. She wanted to tell God thank you—even though her battle was not yet over.

Looking across the street, she saw the church building. High up on the steeple, the cross reflected the sun’s light. She just stared. And reflected. A man walked in front of her with a young woman helping him down the sidewalk. A single beaded tear welled up and hung in the balance on her eyelid. The two people disappeared inside. 

Her head was drawn back towards the cross. Staring up, she began considering everywhere she had been over the last six months from diagnosis until now. She thought back on all the chemo, and all the times they hooked those needles up to her ports—both in her belly and her neck. There had been so much fatigue and weakness, but nothing that she hadn’t been able to work through. And then there were the blood draws. It seemed like there had been nothing short of a thousand of those. Do I have any blood left? She chuckled. And then there were all the times she had held her breath waiting for her results.

And now the culmination. All of it was not for naught. It was all for something. After all, she had been blessed to witness her daughter’s wedding—even if the dress hung a little bit loosely. That was small matter. 

Wiping the tear away, she now smiled. And then she bowed her head and thankfully prayed while sitting on the bench. There was no end to her saying thank you. A million times would not be enough she realized. She praised the Lord for how He had guarded and protected her, how He had sustained her, and how He had helped her to not focus so much on herself, but on those around her. Her prayers went in a thousand directions, detailing every single place and emotion she had experienced over the last six months. 

Peace washed over her. What she had just offered was not much, but it was what she could offer. It was all she had. How can you ever thank your Sustainer, your Creator, your Father enough? And she knew she could not. But she was content that she could at least give back one small measure of thanks for all the mercy that had been shown to her on the journey thus far.

She couldn’t wait to see what the next chapter would reveal. And right then she opened her eyes and smiling at her was her family, patiently waiting. They smiled as if they understood. 

How Do You Thank God Enough? Coco's Journey; Larry Puls; (Click to Tweet)

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