I thought about it from time to time, recalling only that I had been dwelling in a Psalm before I received THE call. Through so many moves, I imagined that it was gone forever, or buried so deep that it may as well be. My journal, that is. The journal that I was doodling it just before I received a call saying that my cancer was gone.
Days after my surgery I could not get up and dance after receiving the good news, but I rejoiced from my perch on my bed. Oh, did I rejoice. That Psalm--the one I didn’t even finish committing to paper before the phone rang--says, “All the ways of the LORD are loving and faithful toward those who keep the demands of his covenant.” That would be Psalm 25:10. I wrote it down that day because I had such an overwhelming peace in my soul when I came upon it. A peace that carried me through surgery to remove an 8 lb tumor on my right ovary, a peace that told me, “This thing that’s happening here, it’s really going to be okay. I am with you.” I knew. Before the call, I knew. I knew that this call would come and they would say, “No more cancer. It’s all gone.” And now, 12 years later, I found the journal. I was looking through a box of books in preparation for a garage sale, and there it was. The myth was made real. I didn’t imagine its existence. So I’m sharing it with you all, and I’m doing that dance that I didn’t get to do 12 years ago.