All things committed

I want so much to be able to say that I don't have to have another treatment for now, but I can't.  I want to say that my CA 125 went down and into the normal range, back to remission, but I can't.  There had been 7 weeks in between my chemo treatments...which is apparently too long.....  So my number rose, just a bit.  But my anxiety rose to the point that I was certain this was the beginning of the end.  Because ovarian cancer tends to have an end.... The truth of it just sucks.
When I went to see my nurse she was completely not worried-even would expect the number to rise because of the time that had passed between the last two chemos.  All she said made sense and calmed me.  Altho I am not excited by any means to have this chemo, I am not pissed off, or as anxious.  I even used the word peaceful.  I feel peaceful because there are some intentional steps being taken to keep my family fed, and me not feeling lonely or afraid.
The truth is that the last chemo brought me to a place I had never been before.  I've never been lower.  But my friends and I figured it out.  The depression, altho it lasted only a week or two, was very intense and probably came from a misunderstanding of words and a friend recovering from an illness, which left me on the bean bag alone- at least I felt desperate and alone.  It was very dark in my head.  Not a common place for my head.
These past 2 weeks God has been doing something.  Between the sermon and our Life Group I opened up, opened my heart, and feel a very small amount of hope and light. That is to say I don't think I am going to die today.  That's kinda how I felt earlier in the week.
Commitment: that sermon brought me to a point of understanding that perhaps this journey is what I am supposed to be committed to.  Perhaps Ovarian Cancer is my 'calling', my story, my way to show my commitment to Jesus.  That's the conclusion I came to on Sunday.  I don't exactly know how to show I'm committed to my cancer- that's just crazy talk.  I think that I have to keep moving into that direction tho.  However I don't want it to completely own me of course.  I try hard to not let it define me, but I wonder if it is to supposed to.  Maybe I've been fighting against that too much.  It is obviously what defines me right now- over 5 years with cancer, fighting 4 different times.  It's not like it's likely to change, unfortunately.  (But keep praying for the miracle)
I'm still feeling like I am on a teeter totter with my relationship with Jesus, but I know that I have to get back into reading and applying what I know and what I learn to my life, to this life.  Altho I hate how my children have to see this, I hate that my husband has to hold me some nights as I just cry, I also know that God is working in them as well.  Oh how my girl has surprised me, and my tall boy is so beautiful when he smiles, and the red head, well mom and cancer are just normal to him.  He was 5 when it started.
Here's what I HATE.  It makes so many people sad.  And I want to control that- to say don't be sad, just know this is the normal path of destruction it takes.  I do not like making people sad, but I am trying very hard to just let it be, to let you go thru what you need to.  Just please know, I'd rather spend happy time with you....
Mike made me think of commitment in a different way.  Commitment to my husband and family, very important and usually happy.  Being committed to an illness is a very strange concept.  I was chosen to go thru this for some reason.  We all think it's sharing and writing.  Is there more?  Am I supposed to feel privileged to go thru this?  Um- I'm going with no.  But I think I am supposed to remain strong, remain committed to doing this crappy journey.  And that's ok.  Commitments can be ugly and hard.  My ugly and hard is cancer, trying to figure out what to do between conventional and alternative therapies, wondering where the money comes from, mortified about Obama Care and wondering what that will mean for my care.  I am obviously a chronic case... But I have a lot of chronic issues, like stubborn first born syndrome, a will as strong as an elephant, and friends and family who fight harder than I know.
So I've kinda recommitted to fighting, suffering and being vulnerable for and with you, because you are the hands that help to keep me standing up  and fighting.  I need your help.  The problem is that I don't really know what the help is.  So pray, and then do what God reveals to you.
I am committed to fighting.  I am recommitted to fighting.  I am not going to back down.  But, I am still struggling with faith and understanding why I don't get healed-yet.  I don't know these answers, I just know they are in my heart.  I guess I kinda feel cheated of a miracle.
So commitment took on a whole new meaning for me last weekend.  Sometimes commitment is really hard.  And sometimes is life threatening.  I need God to fill me with bravery and strength enough for you and me.
Cancer changes everything, including the everyday, including priorities, including how to live longer and better and faithfully.  And commitment to fight, be sick, and heal- keeping quiet, conserving my energy so that I can heal better.  (keeping quiet-yes I'm laughing too).  It's hard to be what you have not been before.  Saying no, NO I cannot do that.  Sucks.
Cancer rocks your life, creates complete chaos, but is a constant reminder that sometimes you have to change the plan, and sometimes you have to commit to living the life assigned to you by the only one who knows that with Him, you will succeed, if you remain committed to Him.  Pray me back to commitment to him.
I want the gift of time.  I want the gift of health that lasts longer that 6 months.  I want to be able to take trips with my family.  I just want so much.
Please, pray more than you ever have for me.  I must reach that first priority, my relationship with Christ.  That is not where I am, altho it has gotten to be more positive.
And thank you for your commitment to me, my family, and praying for us.