Adventure Time!!!

For those of you who might find this blog sometime in the future and wonder... where the heck did she go?

Never fear! I am still writing. My life just changed in a major awesome way and I started a new blog to tell people all about it!

I am moving from the US to Indonesia to teach at an international school in Jakarta!

If you wanna keep up to date on my shenanigans, you can hop on over to:
https://shespeaksfromthatwhichfillsherheart.blogspot.com/

My new normal is a grand adventure!

-Rachael

Five Years Hence

Five years ago I was told I had cancer. So it is time I wrote another letter to myself. Oh, if there were any way I could post it back in time, what a difference it would make. But I can't go back, only forward. So her is the open letter to 18-year-old me:

Dear 18-year-old Me,

So this week has sucked, right? Like more than the time you thought that boy like you but it turned out he didn't. Like more than when you couldn't see your best friend for a year because your parents were fighting over something you didn't understand. Like more than the time your friends laughed at the idea of you ever french-kissing (like sure you thought it was gross at the time but 15-year-old you could hope to french kiss later in life, right?). 

Yep, this week blew that way out of the water, way off the radar; you can't even believe you were once upset about such trivial things. In fact, you are wishing something so trivial could bother you. You wish you could let spats with friends and misunderstandings of teenage hormones consume your mind, if even for a moment. 

Because then you wouldn't have to think about cancer.

I wish I could warn you, dear one, that some of your hardest days are still yet ahead of you. And just when you think it is over, it won't be. Not yet. I wish I could save you the tears cried into your pillow at night, the pain of staring into the unknown. 

But most of all, I wish I could tell you about today. About how five years later, so very much will be different. And the good kind of different, too. You will have fulfilled three lifelong dreams in the span of the past year.  You will visit England, graduate college, and become a teacher. Yep, that is right. You. You who lie in bed and want it to be over. You who will suffer so much pain you will wonder if death would be kinder. You who will lose all of your hair, confidence, and sense of self. 

You.

You will grow. You will find strength when you did not think there was any left. You will reach into your soul and discover something: God made you strong. Even when your legs tremble beneath you, you will stand tall. And you will reach for your dreams at last. 

I can't promise easy, but I can promise worth it. Oh, so worth it. 

sincerely, 23-year-old Me

My new normal taught me that when nothing is certain, everything is possible. 

-Rachael

Gypsy Teaching

Confession time: I am a planner. Okay so if you have read a few of these posts you would probably know that already. I am not a change-the-plans-last-minute kind of girl. If I could know just what I am doing for the rest of my life, play down to the minute each moment, I would be a happy person.

Naturally, life is not like that. So for this planner, substitute teaching is a bit of a nightmare. There is the whole mystery around if I will get a call the next morning or if I won't. And if I do get a call, where will I be? Which school district? Which school? Which class? Which subject? The lists goes on. I step out in faith each day, not knowing where the day will take me.

In a weird and twisted kind of way, I got a certain peace when I was sick because I always knew where I was going to be the next day, what doctor I was going to see, and what drug I would need to take. I had a schedule. The planner in me was happy even if the rest of me was not.

As a substitute teacher, I feel a lot like a gypsy.

Why? Well, it all started my junior year of college. That was when classes ramped up, and I had to face the reality of my career choice. I knew college was going to be hard but being an education major is a whole nother level of hard. The amount of homework involved still makes me cringe. Add to that field work, lesson plans, unit plans, state company tests (That cost over $100 each) and just the general pressure of my family and myself to do well.

So in the midst of the chaos, my two college besties and I are doing homework and for the 100th time that month we feel stupid. Fed up, we start to joke. "Maybe we should just run away and be gypsies!" I proclaim. "They don't care if we do well, we can wear cute clothes, travel, every day will be an adventure, and we will never have to do college again!"

We all had a good laugh and tried to focus on our homework. After that, whenever we were frustrated or confused about college, we would joke that we were going to run away and be gypsies. We often invited others to go with us. The story kept us cheerful on the long weekends of lesson planning and early morning observations.

And yet here I am. Graduated. Degree in hand, teaching. Ironically, the thing I thought would be the exact opposite of being a gypsy is what has turned out to be just that. I never know where I am going to be the next day. I have to bring everything with me when I go. I travel a lot. each day is an adventure.

Not what I had in mind. But, hey, will take the daily adventure.

My new normal is teaching me that the unknown is a good thing; where nothing is certain anything is possible.

-Rachael

I Survived... Again

There have been exactly two times in my life that I wasn't sure I would make it. Not like die, but give up. Mentally or spiritually I would give up, or be forced to give up and that would be that. I would be exposed for the useless weakling that I am. The world would finally discover that I was only faking it the whole time. That I only looked strong. That I only seemed wise. The first time I felt this was during my battle with Leukemia. I survived that. 

The second time was during my student teaching. 

And yet, here I am. How about that? I not only survived. I graduated. Me. The shy, self-conscious, homeschooler walked into a high school for the first time and somehow got 150 9th-graders to learn something. And learn I did right along with them.

Student teaching is the second hardest thing I have ever done next to surviving cancer. There are so many different things I could say or ways I could describe student teaching. It was wonderful and horrible. It gave me confidence while making me feel stupid in every way. I could feel on top of it all one moment, and the next be humbled by a simple mistake. My students challenged me, pushed me to places I never thought I would go, and we all learned so much. 

And yet I still feel like I have no idea what I am doing. 

Four months of that was supposed to teach me all I needed to know? Sure the four years of college before that were helpful and all, but in the end, I had to face the reality that it is to be a school teacher. Nothing looks the same as it does on paper. Nothing works the way it is supposed to. If it works for one class it crashes and burns in another. 

And here I am, standing here with my Bachelor's Degree, being shoved into the world and told, "Okay, here you go! Now you are ready to teach." And I stand, blinking in the bright reality of it all. And I have no idea what I am doing.

Now, I have been told all first-year teachers feel inadequate. That it is a struggle each and every day. And so maybe this is normal first-year jitters. Maybe nobody understands what is going on and what should happen. 

As of right now I do not have my own classroom. I am living at home again and finishing up the paperwork to be a substitute teacher. It is hard to find a job in the middle of the year. I feel displaced and even more unsure. However, there is a part of me that says I did not get a permit teaching job yet because I am not supposed to stay here. 

I know that may sound a little silly, and perhaps that is a subject for another blog, but I am just not secure in the idea of living around here, even in the Midwest, for the rest of my life. I used to think I would grow old and die in the area but I guess my heart has grown wings. Between flying out of the country for the first time last spring, living out of state for two years, working in still a different state for summer camp I have learned a few things about myself. 

I have learned I can make friends with strangers, and it isn't as hard as I thought it would be. That a place can feel more like home when you love the people there. And that it is gonna be easier than I ever thought possible to leave my childhood home. 

I have no clue where I am going, but my new normal is teaching me to be ready for the winds of change to come.

Happy New Year!

-Rachael

Drinking Out of a Firehose: My thoughts on Student Teaching

How can I describe student teaching? It is like trying to drink out of a firehose. So many bits of information are being thrown at you and you are trying to absorb them all or at least keep them to think about later than you end up with a mess everywhere, soaking wet, and you never really got to swallow any of it.

Yep. That is student teaching.

Okay, that sounds bad. That sounds depressing. Sometimes it is. Sometimes I cry myself to sleep only to have dreams that are worse than reality. It is hard. Not going to lie. This is one of the hardest things I have ever done. Second only to cancer, I would say. And there were times when I wasn't sure I was going to make it. The fact that I still go to school everyday and have some sort of hope left in my soul tells me that I am supposed to be here. I am supposed to do this. If I wasn't, I would have left a long time ago because there are a lot of jobs that make a lot more money and have a lot less stress.

But they also have fewer rewards. It is worth so much to me to see kids get excited about reading. To see their eyes light up with excitement and pride when they accomplish something they never thought they could. I wouldn't trade that even for restful nights where I don't dream.

I am making it. My college has a more than tough educational program that requires a student teaching project that is above and beyond what any other college in the state asks for. None of the teachers I talked to have ever seen anything like it pre-graduate level.

And y'all, I passed.

I have never been so happy to get a B in all my life. Now it is just teaching. Teaching and learning and growing into a teacher that I want to be. I have learned so much. The best part has probably been to see my confidence grow. I was pretty terrified to be alone in the classroom before, now I love it. I love to have command of the room. I love it when 28 students hush when I speak. I love it more when they start hushing each other. I get to lead and I never thought it could feel so good.

I am a teacher. When did that happen? When did this awkward, homeschooled, cancer survivor from nowherevile even get the idea into her head that not only could she go to college out of state, but that she could conquer one of the hardest programs in a subject she knew nothing about? That's God. That's not me. I could never do that. I could never be where I am without him.

People tell me I am strong or smart or brave. Nah. If I am anything, it is because God works through me. He chose to use me for reasons I will never understand. Understand or not, here I am Lord. Send me.

Teaching is a calling. Only those who feel the call can follow through. And you have to be really stubborn. Maybe that is why God called me. I don't like to give up because giving up means admitting you were wrong. There is nothing I hate more.

Maybe that is why I became a teacher. Teachers are not allowed to give up.

My new normal has found me more confidence than I knew existed in my being.

Here I am Lord. Send me.

-Rachael

Live the Dream

This is it. I am finally here. The wait is over.

I start student teaching tomorrow.

This is the dream. All those days when I was sick I would dream of this day. The day when I would finally get to finish school and start my dream.

I start student teaching tomorrow.

I stand on the edge of a precipice. I can't see what tomorrow brings. I have a vaguely fuzzy idea about what I am supposed to be doing and what I need to be learning. I mean I have been preparing for four long years for this moment. So I don't mean to say I have no clue what it means to teach or how I am supposed to teach. That I have down.

I think.

My, I do not sound confident. You would think after four years I would be more sure about this. But as my beautiful roommate and fellow student teacher says, "It's like drinking out of a firehose." It will be like starting college all over again with all the information being thrown at me.

For all that, I am still beyond excited.  I. GET. TO. LIVE. MY. DREAM.

My dream people.

My new normal means that I do get to at last get to live my dream. Even if it wasn't in the way I thought I would get here.

-Rachael

Reaching for the Stars

God has provided, as he always does. I am not only back at school but having an upside down wonderful kind of session. Everything is just as hard, maybe harder even.

But I am not fearful.

I have a sort of fire in my veins. Powerful, strong, crazy, and beautiful all at once. It drives me onward even on my darkest days.

I guess it really all kind of hit me when I got my notice to attend a meeting next month. A meeting for seniors. That is what I am now. A senior. However do I wrap my head about that? I have been going to school nearly my whole life and now... now I am almost done. Just over a year to go. What? How?

I can't answer either of those questions. But somehow, past the pain, the tears, the cancer, the financial problems, I ended up here. Surely, this was no accident. No freak alignment of the stars. I was driven to this place for a reason, for a purpose.

Perhaps I was created for such a time as this.

That is the fire that drives me. The knowledge that I did not just "end up" at this college and I did not just "end up" with my passion for teaching. And so, when it is hard, when I don't want to crawl out of my bed in the morning, I remember that this was no accident.

I was created for such a time as this.

And so, dear reader, were you. You are where you are for a very good and specific reason. Maybe you can't see it now, but you were not given what you got so you could end now. You didn't come this far to only come this far. Please do not give up. Do not hesitate. Do not second guess yourself. God has a plan, one that reaches way beyond yours.

My new normal is teaching me that I don't have to find the plan, the plan will find me for this is the time for which I was created.


–Rachael

Picking Up and Moving On

As I start my last full year of college, I am startled by how much I still think about cancer. On a good day, it might just be a small reminder: my short hair, a leg cramp. On a bad day, which thankfully happen less and less often, I am assaulted by past feelings and can become bitter and angry in a flash for things that happened to me years ago. 

But not all memories tied to that time are bad. For the first time in my life, I really do feel like I am picking up and moving on. I am known by many people at college not because of cancer, but because of my major, or where I live, or what I am interested in. They know and like me for me, not for what I have been. I am leaving that chapter behind me once and for all.

Not for good, though. I could never completely rid myself of that as that time is as much a part of who I am as any other time. Nor do I want to forget what happened to me for that was when I found my strength. I am leaving behind the bad, and I am applying the good.

And my word does it feel freeing.

With cancer comes so much emotional baggage. With that baggage comes a unique perspective. No matter what I am facing I remind myself of this truth: I have already done the hardest thing I will ever do. If I can do cancer, I can do anything.

Tonight we were talking in class about what will happen after graduation. I have wanted to be a teacher for so long that I have been secretly afraid that I might not be good enough and then I won't know what to do. All the education classes in the world can't make you a good teacher or else we would have no bad ones. What if I don't have the knack for it? What if I am just not made to be a teacher?

My professor eased some of my fears when she said that the job I get after college will probably not be the job I have for the rest of my life. And I may not even end up working in the field I think I will. Maybe I will end up somewhere using my degree in ways I never thought I could. And that is okay. That doesn't make my degree any less important because I didn't get my "dream job." 

If I can do cancer, I can do anything.

Maybe on my way to that dream I will get lost and find a new one. A better one. A dream with a job and a place I didn't even know was real.

The future isn't set in stone, I should know this better than most. 

My new normal is teaching me that new dreams are found around every corner. And that picking up and moving on is okay so long as I don't forget the strength I have found along the way.

––Rachael

Stop Doing and Start Being

Such an odd and beautiful thing happened when I was driving home from Bible study the other night. The amazing part was it happened the week before as well. A brilliant lighting storm lit up the sky from east to west. And yet I didn't hear any thunder. And to top it off, the sky to the south was clear and the crescent moon hung like the Cheshire cat's smile in the sky. 

I couldn't believe it happened the first time. And when it happened again, with the moon and everything, I just watched it all in awe. 

I know God can and has done things much more amazing than a lightning show with his power, but seeing that was a good reminder to me. He is able to do so much more than I can ask or imagine. 

The last few weeks have been hard for me. I miss my friends, I miss school. I didn't get the job I wanted for the summer and I am not sure how I will be able to afford school in the fall. My parents have not been very understanding about the whole thing and think it is somehow my fault. I have felt very useless just sitting at home and babysitting once a week. School was so full of action. But now my life is quiet. And the quiet is suffocating me. 

But God is trying to teach me something in this time of stillness. Why do I, again and again, doubt because of where I happen to be at in life? Why do I stress and think I need to have it all together by myself? Since when has anything I have done been on my own?

All I can do is what I have been doing my whole life: rest in the arms of the one who holds the future. 

Why do I try to break away and do things on my own? Why do I try my best when I know my best will never be enough? 

Why do I keep fighting battles when God had already won the war?

I need to just rest and be and lay the rest down at the feet of God. I do not exist for me but to share the Grace and Love of God. And breathe. That is it.

My new normal is teaching me that I need to stop doing and start being. And that sometimes I find God more deeply in the dry times than in the storms.

-Rachael

I Have Come This Far

Guess what today is. Go on. Guess. Today is a year. One whole year.

A year ago today, I had my last spinal tap, my last chemo treatment, and my chest port was removed.

TADA!

Today was the day I decided I wanted to write a blog to help me figure out this what this whole "new normal" thing was all about. Here we are.

I can not express the joy vibrating from my soul. The realization hit me all at once about an hour ago and I haven't stopped smiling since.

I remember the day so well it is hard to believe it was a year ago. I ordered a big sign that said "I WON!" on it and took it with me to the hospital. I took pictures with every doctor, nurse, and family member in sight. I couldn't stop smiling then either.

I was so excited I was bouncing in the waiting room. I hadn't eaten or drank anything because of the surgery but that didn't bring down my energy level. I cried when I thanked my oncologist and nurse practitioner for all their hard work and love through this hard time.

I cried again when they led me into surgery. I hugged my mom and could hardly gasp out this words, "This is it! We are done!" The doctors said they have never seen someone so excited for surgery. I have never been so excited to be cut open in my whole life! Or really anything, actually. They were taking it out of me. They were removing the stupid port that gave me an ugly scar on my chest and forced me to sleep funny.

It was like being unplugged. Like some sort of invisible string had attached me to cancer and the port was the last thing holding me back.

I remember waking up, groggy, but happy. I lay in my drug addled bliss for who knows how long smiling dumbly at the tiled ceiling. It was over. It was done.

Few memories from my cancer days give me joy. I am so pleased I get to remember this one. It is fixed forever in my mind.

My new normal means looking back to see just how far I have come.

-Rachael

Birthday Update!

I just realized I have had a birthday and didn't update this page.

That is right beautiful people. I made it to 22!

Go out and eat some cake for me :)

-Rachael

Finding My Footing

I have been searching for a while, as this blog shows, to find just what my new normal is. I know it is not the same life I had before but just how it was different I have struggled with. I am still me on this side of cancer, after all. I still love reading, sunshine, and anything covered in glitter.

So what has changed? Well, just about everything, actually.

My entire outlook is different. Reading back on the past year of posts I can see myself trying to form that into words. How I look out these windows I call eyes has changed just as the view has. What my life is, was, and will be has altered all because I almost died.

Sometimes, when I am really happy, right in the middle of a laugh with friends or dancing in the rain or belting out my favorite song as it comes on the radio, I get sad. I get sad because I know it won't last. The sadness settles around my heart changes the way I see the moment.

I used to see this as a bad thing. I hated that even my lovely moments were being stolen from me. Didn't I deserve all the beautiful moments I could possibly find?

But then, perhaps it isn't really sadness that comes over me.

It is perspective.

I know bad, painful, hard times will come and it jabs like a knife. But in that moment, I am happy. That flash of perspective makes me laugh and dance and sing all the harder. Makes me grab onto the memory and hold tight with both hands. I will never let those moments go because I know how special they are.

Life can be very dark and painful; sunshine is a rare thing. I want to fill my days with as much sunshine as I can collect. And I want to share that sunshine with others. I want to laugh more and love deeper and speak all the kindness I can. My own darkness has made me realize that everyone is a little broken, everyone has shadows. I do not want to contribute to those shadows. I want people to remember me and think of sparkles. I want them to remember the time I made them laugh and the fun we had. I want them to know I am there for them when times get hard.

Finding my footing in this new normal means helping others find theirs. I don't have so much to bring to this life despite my cancer; I have so much to bring because of it. It sounds super cliche, I know, but I would not have seen the sunshine so well without the rain. And I certainly did not appreciate that sunshine so much as I should.

My new normal means helping others thrive as I am (slowly) learning to. Nobody should have to go through cancer just to live and love life to the fullest.

-Rachael

Walk On Water

Life has a funny way of always being a struggle. I know well of deep hurts and everyday struggles in this life. I feel like I have just weathered the last storm, just had time to fix my sails and take a deep breath, when the next storm hits. 

School costs more than I thought.

Some old chemo side effects came back

I need to take a different class next session but it conflicts with another class I need.

Old fears resurfaced. 

I am going to have to stay an extra semester at school (anticipated graduation date is now December 2017).

I don't have time for a job but I need money.

All of those things happened in just the last month alone. I can tell you I have done my fair share of crying about them. I have asked, no, begged God to calm the storm around me. I can't move on, I thought, I can not keep going until these storms are calmed. My boat can do nothing in these tossing waves.

But here is the thing about storms in life, they don't need to be calmed for me to keep moving forward. Sometimes, God doesn't want me to stay in the boat anymore, he wants me to get out and walk on the waves. But why would I even consider walking on water if I have a boat to sail with? In reality, I wouldn't. During the good times, when the sea is calm, I am most content to stay in my boat and sail on.

Yet during a storm, I have but two options if I want to keep moving forward: wait for God to calm the sea, or step out onto the water. And to be honest, I hate the moment I realise this storm I am in isn't going to end anytime soon. That God's lack of answer to my problem, is my answer. He wants me to witness something far more miraculous that just a storm that stops. He wants me to realize that when he calls me out of the boat, he intends to teach me to walk on the water. 

That first step is the hardest, but really, there is nothing miraculous about getting out of the boat, anybody can do that. But once I let go of the boat and I realized was not drowning joy filled me. Yes the storm was still going on around me. But I was doing something I never thought possible!

I asked questions and found loan money I had forgotten to sign for.

The side effects didn't keep me down and slowly melted away again.

The class I thought I needed, is no longer a requirement. And because I dug deeper and asked questions, I will get a class of my choice to substitute for it. 

God taught me through a Bible study how to face my fears head on. And now they melt away mere moments after appearing. 

Staying an extra semester means I will graduate with all of my friends instead of early by myself.

My new normal has taught me that the most amazing moments in life were not when God calmed the storm around me, but when he taught me to walk on water. 

-Rachael

She Flies

It is high time I wrote about the poem that inspired me most during and after my fight. While on Pinterest one day (if you want to follow me there will be a link at the end of the post) I came across these five words "With brave wings, she flies." And I found I could hardly breathe. What was it about these five words that sparked a fire in my soul?

"With brave wings, she flies"

I guess I never thought one had to be brave to fly. I thought birds enjoyed the activity, like we enjoy walking and running. But brave? Brave means facing challenges. Brave means being scared and doing it anyway. Brave means knowing there are more important things to think about than failing and falling. I wanted brave wings.

"With brave wings, she flies"

So she doesn't just have these brave wings, she flies with them as well. She could stay safely on the ground, showing off her brave wings to others. She could preen them and flap them to work them out. Yet never actually use them. Because to use them could mean failure. To use them could mean falling. But she does use them. And not just for short hops.

Over a year later (actually, right around the time I started this blog) I found that these five words were actually connected to a longer poem. And I found it hard to breathe again.

"Over the cliffs of wonder 

Into the abyss of surprise."

 

Remember that flying I was talking about? These are no ordinary flights. She soars. She dives headlong into the hardship. The future is uncertain, but it is worth it for the view. It is worth it for the journey. "Cliffs of wonder"? Yeah, I have seen a few of those in my time. "Abyss of surprise"? Boy, I sure have found myself in a few of those!

"She doesn't know what's coming next"

Nobody can predict the future. She may think about all the "what ifs." What if I fall? What if I fly too close to something and get knocked down? What if I don't have the strength to get to the next perch? But all the what ifs don't stop this girl from flying.

"I think that is for the best"

Wow, that is a hard one to swallow. Sometimes it feels like all I want to know is WHEN. When will this be over? When will the storm end? When will the sun shine through? But looking back, I know I would have totally freaked out if I knew what was coming ahead of me. Cancer? No way God, I can't handle that. Graduating with honors? Please, I am not that smart. Becoming a teacher? What? I am too sensitive! Not smart enough! My past is so messed up! I am not... How many excuses can I come up with? One for every star in the sky. Sometimes, most of the time, it is best not to know.

"Her courage and her heart 

Will get her through the rest"

––Rachael

p.s.

My Pinterest page, in case you care to follow:

https://www.pinterest.com/givingmyall/ 

In Years Past

Some things never really change. And most of the time we don't want them to. We want things to stay the same because the same is safe. Even if that thing is hard, changing would be harder because change means facing the unknown. I know that if I want something I have never had, I have to do something I have never done.

In this season of I am reminded every year of just how much has changed in my life. This time three years ago, I was so sick I didn't want to go to work or hang out with friends. I would find out in just about three weeks that I had Leukemia.

Two years ago I was starting to recover from the toxic chemo, then two months into having my hair back. I was struggling to find my balance in a new life that was completely uncharted: the life of a survivor. No doctor could promise me anything beyond my next breath.

One year ago I was still on chemo and struggling with the mood swings of my medication. I was working at a job and trying to pretend to be normal when I felt everything but. I remember crying when I would get home from my job for no other reason than because I felt bad. I felt like I was living a lie by acting normal around everyone. But to show the truth would have hurt so much more. I was fearful that my parents would make me quite my job or worse pull me out of college.

And this year? Well, this year I am not sick, not even a cold. I am feeling better than I have in a long while. Actually, I can't recall the last time I have felt so full of hope.

My new normal is showing me that change can be a good thing. That change can bring about hope. Even if it take three years to actually enjoy Christmas again.

-Rachael

p.s.

I am very thankful for my life this Christmas, but I am most thankful for my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.

A New Dream

So, it is time you all know that Rapunzel is my favorite princess. From her spunky, adventurous personality, to her creative purple wearing tendencies, this girl speaks to my soul. I even dressed up as the brunette version of her last year and this year for Halloween. (Never pass up an opportunity to dress like a princess!)

The movie as several themes but one of them seems to be, "Have a dream, and be bold enough to go and live it." This plays out with Rapunzel wishing to go and see the "floating lights" and at last having the courage to do so.

I love finding bits of myself in other's stories, so when I saw a piece of my life in Rapunzel's life I did a happy dance on the inside. Okay, maybe on the outside too.

You see, when I was sick, all I could think about was getting better and going to school. I have been longingly staring out the windows in my life, wondering what it would be like to at last be well enough to go away to college. In this perfect dream, I would go to a private Christian college even though at the time I didn't think I could ever afford that. God actually shaped and allowed my dream to be realized in ways I didn't think were possible. 

He gave me a hope and a future.

He gave me my dream.

And now I am here, at college, and it is everything I thought it would be. More actually. I could not have orchestrated such a perfect place to complete my education. I could not have designed a better environment to live in. And I could not have dreamed of the passion God has instilled in my soul. 

I have my dream... Now what?

In the words of Flynn Rider, I get to go and find a new dream. And I have to tell you, this dream searching thing is both wonderful and terrifying. The possibilities are so endless I scare myself sometimes contemplating them all. The "what ifs" can go on forever. 

My new normal finds me in search of a new dream

-Rachael

Today is a Gift

I have spent the last few days drowning myself in a mess of self-pity. I have probably thought "If only I could be well!" at least a thousand times. If only I could be well I could do my school. If only I could be well then I could actually take care of my body. If only I could be well it wouldn't hurt to walk.

If only I could be well, then I would be happy.

Yet just this morning I realized I was lying to myself. I bought the lie that the world tells me that if I just have (fill in the blank) I will be happy. But my happiness is not based on my current physical state. If this were so, I never would have been happy for the two and a half year of chemo. I would not have been happy when I suffered from anxiety. 

I was happy during those days. I had some of the best days of my life in between the doctor's visits and pain medication. I was happy. If this is so, then my happiness has nothing to do with where I am, and nothing to do with what I feel like. 

My happiness, my joy, is found in the Lord. 

I felt quite ungrateful when I understood this. I have not forgotten the days I prayed to be well enough to attend college. For the days I prayed for the money for school. For the days I wanted nothing more than to be done with chemo. And here I am, the place I said that if I could only get to, I would be happy. Wow, Rachael, you are so forgetful!

Today, like every day, is a gift from above. And I get to decide how I will spend it. Will I wallow in self-pity? Will I wish for the "one thing" that will make me finally happy?

Or will I be grateful? Will I rejoice for clouds and for sunshine? Will I frown because it is night? Or will I smile and look for stars? I can not choose where I am at physically, but I can choose joy. I can choose to say thank you for how far I have come. I can choose to remember that life is a journey, and if I won't be happy until "I get there" then I will be unhappy for the rest of my life.

This doesn't mean I can't be sad. This doesn't mean I can't cry or get mad or be depressed. It means that when the wave has passed I don't refuse to stand up out of the water. It means that I might have to ask for help, but I can overcome this. I do not walk this life alone.

I will not wait until I get better, I will be happy now.

My new normal is remembering that nothing in this life will make me "happy" as true joy is found only in the Lord.

-Rachael

Some Days I Just Want to Hide

The last few weeks have been tough ones for me. I decided not to tell you about it until it was over and I understood part of it myself. 

First, there was a lot of pain. I didn't want to get out of bed in the morning. I forced myself to act normal and carry on with life. But then one morning it got worse. I cried and sobbed and got a ride to the ER. They said it was nothing, they sent me home with medicine. For one week, I believed them.

Then it was back. Worse this time.

I went again. They did some scans. No cancer, praise the Lord. Just a gallbladder. 

Just.

Just  a surgery in the middle of the school year. Just a week of pain and no food. Just a few months of eating special food and not feeling well. Just.

So yesterday I had surgery.

Lord, when will it end? I have come to the conclusion that I will never be "well" again. At least not well as other people are. 80% of people who had childhood cancer suffer from long-term health effects. How silly I was to think I could find my way into the small 20%. 

My roommate was good enough to move our room around so I wouldn't have to climb onto a top bunk. My professors were kind enough to tell me to take all the time I needed to get well. Everyone must bend over for me. Work life around me. It seems I will be on the "special" list everywhere I go. Everyone will know my name, but not because of something good. 

God has shown his ever-present love in this. The girls on my hall gathered around me and prayed together for peace and healing on this. For a quick recovery and that I might get back to school soon.

Lord, if you can not hear me, at least hear them.

My new normal is harder to live some days and today is especially hard.

-Rachael

Life Sentence

I am required to attend chapel three times a week at my college. Wednesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays at 10:30 in the morning we file in and find a seat in the arena. Sometimes I sit with friends. Sometimes I sit alone. Some days the speaker is mostly there to tell us information about school and upcoming events. 

But some days we get a speaker who tells us something awesome. This week was one of those times.

Our speaker got up after the worship songs and introduced himself. He said he wanted us to think about something. He said, after we have died, people are going to talk about us. He said they will be standing around some years after I am gone and my name will come up in a conversation. And someone will say something to the effect of, "Remember Rachael? She was..." And more than likely we will only get once sentence that describes us before the conversation moves on to other things. One sentence that describes our lives. 

Just one.

My mind was reeling. What would people say about me? Would they say I was smart? Kind? Happy? Would they say I beat cancer? That I went to college to be a teacher?  That I loved to read? But the better question was:

 What did I want them to say about me?

See, I cannot really control what they said about me after I die, not really. But I can make something in my life more apparent than the others. Make my life sentence, because I may just get one, count. 

I don't know just what I want my sentence to be, but I made a list of things that I want people to remember me by. 

1. I want to be remembered for loving Jesus with all my being. Not just be a person who talked the talk. I want people to say, "Remember her? She really loved Jesus."

2. I want to be remembered for my compassion to others. Someone who goes out of her way to help and aid others in life. Even if that means crossing oceans. I want people to say, "Remember her? She was a humanitarian."

3. I want to be remembered for the girl who was scared to, but did it anyway. The girl who cried herself to sleep at night because she was so afraid to do something, only to do it the next day. I want people to say, "Remember her? She faced her fears."

4. I want to be remembered for having a full life. I don't want people to say I never took risks or never did anything new. I want people to say, "Remember her? She loved adventure and lived her life."

5. And lastly, I want to be remembered for being beautiful because of, not despite, my scars. I want people to say, "Remember her? Her past didn't design her; it transformed her."

What will your life sentence be?

-Rachael

Fast and Slow. Good and Bad.

It blows my mind some days just how short a time good things take to happen. When You are in the dark place, it feels like it will never end. It was that way when I was sick. I wondered every hour of every day, "Will this ever be over?" 

Two years sounds like a long time. Sounds like a little eternity when speaking of, or living, bad stuff. And the longer the bad stuff goes on, the less and less hope I had that good stuff could ever possibly happen again. Or if it did, it could never make up for all the bad stuff.

But what if I considered good things? Is two years a long time to be married? No. Is two years a long time to attend a college? No. Is two years even a long time to live in one spot? Not at all. My new normal is slowly teaching me that the time for something to take, is irrelevant in the long run. Will it take me longer than normal to finish school? Maybe. But in the end I will still finish. Did I devote two years of my life to getting better? Mostly. But I did and learned a lot of other things in those two years as well. 

And so I need to rethink what I call "a long time." And just because it feels like a long time, doesn't always mean it is. And the good that comes after? I didn't think it could happen so fast! I need to remember such things next time I go through a "long" hard time in my life. My next dark phase might be brighter if I just remember that good things can happen just as quickly as bad things.

I need to look out for ways that I am growing and learning in my dark times too. The more I think about it, the more I realize that I do learn more in my dark times. I know I walk closer to God. I walk so close that some days I don't let go of his hand. Some days he carries me because I have not the energy to walk on my own. And it is those days I learn the most about myself and about God. We do a lot of talking on such days. 

Maybe it is the bad that helps me better understand the good? I wish there were an easier way to do that! I wish I did not have to walk through the valley of the shadow to enjoy the sun on the other side! But maybe I do. And if it must be so, I am glad I came to see it at the age of one and twenty.

-Rachael