My confession

Ashford Evans

I feel like I need to address something with all of you, my readers. I need to set the record straight. After a recent post I received countless emails, texts, comments, and messages declaring my bravery and my strength. And although I truly appreciate these heartfelt sentiments there is something I need to confess…

I am not strong. 

No, I am not. In fact, I believe I may be the antithesis of strength. I struggled, I cried, I broke. I barely made it through. I clawed my way through each day- each moment. And somehow found myself standing here. On the other side.

No. I am not strong but there is strength all around me.

My God is strong. He provided for me in ways that I didn’t even know I needed. He carried me through like the Footprints poem. He knew I was too weak to walk myself.

My faith is strong. I have a peace that has settled over me. It is something I have never felt before. It is the peace of “letting go and letting God”. The weightlessness of relinquishing all control.

My marriage is strong. You know the saying “You never know what you had until you’ve lost it”? Well, I came within inches of losing it and I didn’t. We now appreciate each other in ways that we never have before. Each moment is a gift not to be taken for granted. And we embrace each other with a love and caring that is deeper than I have ever known.

My church is strong. The outpouring of love and support that we received from our church family has been overwhelming. There is no way to put into words the blessings that have been showered upon us. Whether it was the day 15 men showed up with Christmas trees and lawn mowers to clean up the yard and decorate my house for the holidays. Or the women’s group that came together to schedule four home cooked meals a week delivered to our house for six months straight.

My friends are strong. One of my friends talked to me on the phone every night for 2 hours for 60 days straight. Two of my friends coordinated a gift drive and showed up at my house with hot coffee and 2 SUVs packed full of Christmas gifts for my family to help offset the medical costs during the holiday season. I have a stack of cards 6 inches high from friends and family expressing their concern and prayers. 

My warriors are strong. There are countless others who have gone down this road before us and through an online support group they held my hands and wiped away my tears. People I have never even met lending an ear or a virtual hug in my time of need.

My nurses are strong. My mother-in-law in particular who helped me every night either in person administering IV fluids or emotionally supporting me as we battled the raging symptoms from the chemotherapy.

So you see, I can’t take credit for any of it because it was all of you. You, who allowed us to lean on when we were unable to stand on our own. No, I am not strong. But I am surrounded by a strength that brings me to my knees.

2 thoughts on “My confession

  1. Lauren I hear just what you are saying. I have been there in a different way many many times with Gene. I could have been writing most of this myself. I know just what you mean about the foot prints I and Gene and our family have been carried and still are more than anyone knows. God’s strength is what brought Gene and I together and he is seeing us through almost 45 years together day by day already. Will be in April. Hang on He is always there.

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