I’m a blessed woman.

Love covers me.

Prayers lift me.

Faith sustains me.

Messages encourage me.

Friends help me.

Family embraces me.

Blessed, covered, lifted, encouraged, sustained, helped, embraced . . .

It well with my soul.

And now, God has given me another African “daughter.”

A Ugandan graduate student, Jhanet sat with me on our sofa and we hugged. Still on chemotherapy for another year, she wears a soft white turban that contrasts with her glowing face. We met through IRMC’s breast cancer support group, last fall and both believe we were destined to meet. She was with me on St. Patrick’s Day as I read a lab report. It said the findings were consistent with advanced breast cancer; a woman of profound faith, she responded, “Whose report do you believe?” (See Luke 10:17-19)

A month ago I waited and prayed as she underwent a double mastectomy. Renewed in health and strength, it’s her turn to wrap me in kindness. I’ll be telling more of her story in coming weeks.

Jhanet: “‘It is Well with My Soul’ is my song for you, Jan. Don’t worry too much, worry robs us of our Joy. Leave it all to God.”

Me: “I love this song, you should hear my husband sing it!”

She had no way of knowing Jim sang this old hymn at a laity service only hours after his beloved father’s memorial service. He didn’t allow grief to hinder him; rather, it enriched his singing.

Following a tumultuous morning of calls with various offices that left me in tears, my soul quiets down and I hum, “It is well. . .”

My body, unfortunately is not in cooperation mode. For folks who would like to know what’s happening with me medically since a diagnosis of advanced breast cancer, I’ll make updated posts that I’m calling “What’s Happening” here at janwoodard.com. I followed a nudge to create this site a few weeks before cancer bounded out of the shadows and now it will be handy tool for staying in touch.

I’ve gone through a plethora of medical appointments and tests; God willing, a treatment plan will soon be in place. Jim, as always, is by my side. We listen to professionals who glance at computer screens that spew cold facts we don’t like or fully grasp; we understand enough to know this is life-changing. Our Julie has been with us through this week – cooking, comforting, attending, and helping me give away clothes and books I’ve wanted to pass along.

Most days I have a surprising sense of calm. This, I assure you, is not my native response to a crisis (just ask my kids). Prayers get all the credit. They lift my mind to higher places. God says through Isaiah, “My thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways My ways. As the heavens are higher than the earth, so My ways are higher than your ways and My thoughts than your thoughts.”

When I feel as fragile as a glass angel, when fear tries to strangle my peace, I recognize I have choices. I choose, with the Spirit’s help, to stay grounded in my faith, which tells me Jesus bore this for me. Nothing can harm me in an eternal way.

My job is to guard my heart. A friend of my twin sister messaged me Proverbs 4:23: “Keep you heart with all diligence, for from it flows the springs of life.”

I’ve tasted and bathed in refreshing spring water at our family cabin. (That’s our great nephew, Joe & his Daddy, Shawn, in the pics) Sparkling clear water there is the result of an underground stream tumbling through a sieve of glacial rocks beneath a wooded hillside. Many stop daily and take their fill. Where it originates, I’m not sure. I’m humbled by the sieve of life’s rocky circumstances, trusting the results make others thirst for my Source.

Our grandsons Josiah and Eli were baptized and welcomed into God’s family at Nassau Presbyterian Church in Princeton. Both reached out with tiny hands to splash and play in the waters of their baptism, relishing God’s blessings. Think of Jesus at another happy event, turning water into wine for a wedding couple and their guests, demonstrating in a concrete way the essence of His celebratory, blessed life. Ultimately, the way Jesus celebrated and restored life and dignity to “the least of these” led to His cross.

Pensively, I wonder how I’ll see His hand of mercy in days to come. What I know is that we have a miracle-working God who says, “Is anything too hard for me?”

If nothing is too hard for Him, than nothing—not even this—is too hard for me.

All will be well.

(Texting Thru Recovery/Indiana Gazette)