Joy, Joy, Joy

Take Heart

Bringing My Joy Back in Style

Eight days ago, I underwent bilateral breast surgery.

And today, I have some really wonderful words to share:

Clear margins.

Two words that carry so much weight after the journey I’ve been on.

Chemo. Hair loss. Appointments. Scans. Needles. A port. Surgery. And all the emotions that come along for the ride.

But today?

I’m grateful.

I’m eight days out from surgery, my drains were removed Tuesday, and amazingly, I haven’t really been in pain. In fact, I’ve feel extremely energized.

My arms are still limited, so I’m having to remind myself that feeling good doesn’t necessarily mean I’m ready to conquer the world—or reorganize the boutique.

My body still needs time to heal.

But something else has been healing too.

Me.

Today Is Going to Be a Great Day

Every morning when I wake up, I’ve started saying:

“Today is going to be a great day.”

• Before I pick up my phone.

• Before I think about what hurts.

• Before I think about cancer.

• Before the world gets a chance to tell me how I should feel.

I decide how I’m going to approach the day.

I want to fill my mind with what is good before negativity has an opportunity to move in.

That doesn’t mean every moment is easy.

It doesn’t mean I pretend difficult things aren’t difficult.

I’ve learned firsthand that life can be painful.

But I’ve also learned that I don’t have to give every difficult circumstance permission to steal my joy.

I’m Bringing My Joy Back in Style

Somewhere along this journey, survival became the priority.

You go from appointment to appointment.

Treatment to treatment.

One decision to the next.

You learn new medical words you never wanted to know.

You do what has to be done.

But now I’m beginning to feel something stirring inside me again.

Joy.

Not the polite little smile you give someone when they ask how you’re doing.

I’m talking about real joy.

• Big joy.

• Laugh-until-you-cry joy.

• Turn-the-music-up joy.

• Wear-the-outfit joy.

• Call-your-friend joy.

• Thank-God-for-an-ordinary-Tuesday joy.

  
  

And I’ve decided…

I’m bringing my joy back in style!

I don’t want to simply exist after cancer.

• I want a vibrant life.

• I want happiness.

• I want laughter.

• I want purpose.

• I want to serve people.

• I want to create.

• I want to love my family well.

• I want to enjoy the little things I once rushed past.

• And I want to walk into a room carrying the kind of joy that reminds somebody else that their hard season won’t last forever either.

My Body Is Not My Whole Story

This part is difficult to put into words.

My body has been mutilated by what was necessary to fight this disease.

Parts of me are gone.

There are scars where there weren’t scars before.

When I look at my body, there will forever be physical evidence of what happened here.

But cancer didn’t get all of me.

It didn’t get my mind.

It didn’t get my soul.

It didn’t get my faith.

And it certainly doesn’t get my joy.

My body may look different.

But I am still Missy.

Actually…

I think I’m becoming more me than I’ve ever been.

Because when life strips away some of the things you thought defined you, you start discovering what was underneath them all along.

Take Heart

The verse that has carried this journey continues to mean more to me with every passing chapter.

Jesus didn’t promise us a life without trouble. He promised us peace in Him and told us to take heart because He has overcome the world. — John 16:33 (Bible Gateway⁠)

I’m beginning to understand Take Heart differently now.

Taking heart isn’t pretending the storm didn’t happen.

It’s standing in the aftermath and realizing:

• I’m still here.

• I’m still believing.

• I’m still dreaming.

• I’m still laughing.

• I’m still loving.

• I’m still planning things I probably shouldn’t be planning eight days after surgery.

• And I’m still trusting the Gardener with whatever comes next.

Maybe You Need Your Joy Back Too

You don’t have to have cancer to lose your joy.

Sometimes life slowly drains it from us.

• Grief can do it.

• Stress can do it.

• Disappointment can do it.

• Broken relationships can do it.

• Fear can do it.

And sometimes we become so busy surviving that we forget what it feels like to really live.

So maybe tomorrow morning, before your feet hit the floor, you need to say it with me:

Today is going to be a great day.

Not because everything will go perfectly.

Not because bad things can’t happen.

But because today is another day God has given us.

And I don’t want to waste mine waiting for life to become perfect before I decide to enjoy it.

• I’m ready for color again.

• I’m ready for laughter again.

• I’m ready for adventure again.

• I’m ready for purpose again.

• I’m ready for vibrant.

Cancer may have changed my body.

But it does not get to write the ending of my story.

God does.

And friend…

I’m bringing my joy back in style.

• Keep blooming.

• Keep believing.

• Keep choosing joy.

And above all…

Take heart. 

— Missy