Happy Monday!! Hope you had a fabulous Easter! Here’s to a new week!

I can’t tell you how blessed I feel to introduce you to my friend Brooke! We met long ago in college. I have consistently been inspired & challenged by this girl! She is a leader among leaders, she is honest, creative, uber smart & an influencer!

Here’s the thing, when Candi asked me to talk about being brave, I was torn. On the one hand, I was stoked and yet on the other I was afraid to be a hypocrite. ‘Cause if I’m super honest, then I need to tell you right now that I hate the word “brave.” I don’t hate the actual word, but I hate how often it’s misused. See, when you’ve had cancer as many times as I have, it’s people’s favorite word to throw at you. They are well-meaning folks, mind you, but they love to caress you in it and wrap it around you all tight and cuddly like a Snuggie. Something like, “Bless your heart dear, you’re so brave.” Or, “I could never do what you’re doing, you’re so brave.”

Uh, hello, don’t you mean sick? Or unlucky? Or nauseous? Or screwed? Or, or…? But Brave? BRAVE? No. That’s not what this feels like. What this feels like is a betrayal. Like that deepest cut of hurt when your best friend talks bad about you or steals your boyfriend. This feels like that. Hurts like that. Sucks like that. Maybe even worse because the betrayal is from my own cells and then I start to wonder if the Big Guy who rules the cells has it out to get me…This. This feels nothing like brave. Some journal entry somewhere contains a rhyme like:

Me?
I didn’t sign up for this
Didn’t choose it
Misbehaving cells got together and played Cupid
It’s just a plain, bad luck kind of stupid

Where’s the carefree I crave
To my fears I’m a slave
And I will lose my ever loving brains
If one more stranger
Calls me “brave”

See, “brave” makes me think of soldiers running willingly into battle to defend something for which they vigorously believe. This is a nastiness I’m just enduring. Something I’m tucking my head down and waiting out, just hoping to survive.

and yet…somewhere…

a tiny whisper, a gentle nag tugs at my heart and I think…maybe I hear something that sounds like ‘wait.’

“Wait for the Lord; Be strong and let your heart take courage; Yes, wait for the Lord.”(Psalm 27:14).

And I’m like oooookkkkkaaaayyyy, JC, but I’m not sure if you fully appreciate my situation here. I’m not sure if you understand the word “terminal.” I’m not sure you get it, Jesus. And then I flip to verse 13 before for context. And. Oh. Snap.

“I would have despaired unless I had believed that I would see the goodness of the LORD In the land of the living. Wait for the LORD; Be strong and let your heart take courage; Yes, wait for the LORD.”

It sounds kinda like that person gets what it’s like to fear.

And in another translation it says, “Wait patiently for the LORD. Be brave and courageous.”

What if “brave” is more about surrender that bravado? What if we are our bravest when we’re the most scared? When we’re the most depleted and desperate, isn’t that the moment we believe in miracles? And isn’t that faith? And what’s more brave than hoping against odds? In choosing beauty amidst ashes, don’t we bring resurrection into our death shadow days?

So my apologies to Candi for a convoluted answer to both what living brave means and also what hinders me. As for what ways I’m overcoming, let’s not get ahead of ourselves, but i’ll just say this. In 2014 my word was “struggle.” Learning at 34 that you have a death sentence after being 3 years in remission is a pretty debilitating blow. And when Death is breathing down your neck, life becomes such struggle. And it’s still really hard. And there are good days and bad ones. Wins and losses. But know what my phrase is for 2015? ‘Joie de vivre’! Living with a terminal diagnosis remains tricky. But I have struggled and grieved and yet I’m still here a year later and so – let’s party! Maybe that’s part of being brave too – holding cocktail parties in cemeteries as we celebrate our being and our hope and our joy and our life in the face of all the ugly things lurking about.

I’m not sure how to encourage you when I’m so deeply in the midst of figuring my own business out, but I will say this: Life is beautiful. Every sunny day running the dog, or crummy day in the bathroom. The ones that take five pain pills and the ones that only need two. I think we are meant to know that it’s ok to feel it all – the hurt and fear and joy and love and even anger. Because we are loved by a complete God. And He gets it. All of it. We get to be brave by being true to what’s actually happening and living in daily moments of resurrection. And it’s Easter, so I think that Resurrection and joie de vivre are both pretty appropriate.

He is Risen.
(Even when Death lurks)
Je Suis la.
(I am here)
In Paris.
(Celebrating life)
Hoping to do Brave justice.

Hugs!

 

Brooke Owens is a professional space nerd, but when she’s off the clock, she’s an artist at heart and feels just as comfortable on stage or in her makeshift studio at home. Her true love is spoken word poetry and hiphop, which comes in handy when she’s performing in showcases or DJing parties. Recent insomnia has instigated Brooke’s foray into graffiti art (on canvas of course), furniture redemption, and mixed media art. She is an avid shopper and eclectic shoe enthusiast with a collection ranging from high heels to air jordans. Brooke is stoked to be on sabbatical in Paris and hopes to hit as many flea markets as possible!