The Waiting Room

We often think of a waiting room as a physical space and maybe it is...

But

Today its a sacred place. A place from which I cannot seem to leave and yet haven't quite decided to stay. 

This is a photo of when I was in remission from leukemia the first time. Before my relapse, before my bone marrow transplant. Before I knew I would have thyroid cancer as a late effect from radiation.... and before now... while I wait to hear if I have Paget's disease of the breast -  a rare form of breast cancer. 

This is the fourth time in my life that I wait to hear if I have cancer, but this is the only time I have done so with a child.

It's different. It means more. She knows nothing. Maybe she feels it. 

I feel like I cannot accept the cancer since I do not have a pathology report to confirm it. Yet, it's a more than likely reality.

So I choose to breathe.

I am not in fight mode... yet. I am not in acceptance. I'm not even in fear. 

So I imagine tonight i will go inside. I will find God... in that deep place. The place I've been before. I will lay this before Him. And then I will wait there tonight. That is where I will be. 

AND I will wait...