The Peace That Doesn’t Make Sense
With anticipation for the next step looming, I can’t help but reflect on everything that’s led me here.
I find myself re-visiting past moments under the light of what I now know.
And one thing is certain—God is in this story.
It had come down to about a week's time, then I’ll have a number. A lab result.
A number that nudges my path once again in a new direction.
I’ve learned that sometimes we get to know what’s coming, and other times?
We’re just handed the next step without warning.
This time, I get a wreck it ralph roundabout idea—but the specifics still hinged on that number.
And even then, it’s up to the physicians to decide what that step will look like.
In the past, I’d be working overtime trying to game it all out:
If this happens, then I’ll do that...
I’d try to pre-plan, pre-feel, pre-control any piece I could.
But not this time.
Not because I’m stronger.
But because I’m surrendered.
My hands no longer need to grasp when they’re open in praise.
I have decided to follow Jesus—no turning back.
And yes, sometimes it is like walking through deep snow, following a set of footprints ahead.
You do your best to stay in the tracks, even if you stumble, it is just a little snow in the shoe doesn’t even trip you up, you keep going.
One step at a time.
So even though that next number brought it’s own bout of apprehension—
I’m resting (more) in it.
He’s got it.
When I think about the long stretch of discomfort I had to walk through—
how long it took to get a doctor to really hear me,
how that led to a surgery that uncovered cancer no one knew was there, zero expectation?
That’s God.
And listen—I’m not here to slap a bumper sticker on pain.
I don’t believe “everything happens for a reason” in the cliché sense.
I believe life hands us moments.
God offers opportunities.
But we still get to choose.
Left or right. Yes or no.
And what unfolds next? It’s often the fruit of that choice.
I was given moments to speak up, nudges to keep going after it— but I still had to do.
And, what I do believe is that walking with Jesus has given me peace through all of this—
more peace than makes sense, honestly.
Because in less than six months, there were two cancer-related surgeries under our roof—
first my daughter’s, then mine.
Neither path looked like we expected, but both led to the word “cancer.”
And both led to something even deeper—surrender.
I had surrendered to Jesus before we ever knew her results—
and that surrender has been the anchor through every wave since.
My daughter found Him in the middle of it all.
We’ve faced the hard.
But we’ve also found the holy.
We’re still standing.
Still smiling.
Still soaked in joy.
It’s not perfect. I’m not overzealous every single day.
But I’m not shut down. I’m thriving in my creative directions.
I’m awake to the goodness of God in the middle of it all.
That’s how I know Jesus has calmed the waters around us.
We’re still in the storm, but the waters are calm.
And then? That number came in.
My tumor markers—super low.
A number written by God.
That result moved us straight to the next step: a neck ultrasound.
And those results?
THYROID BED: No residual thyroid tissue or mass.
LYMPH NODES: No pathologic regional lymphadenopathy.
From a surgery that wasn’t fully supported by my endocrinologist...
To a surgeon who recommended full thyroid removal...
To waking up with lymph nodes gone, not a part of the original plan...
To pathology revealing cancer in both the thyroid and 2 out of 4 lymph nodes...
To this.
Low tumor markers.
Clear ultrasound.
The next step? Radioactive iodine and a full-body scan.
That radioactive iodine process— is no joke.
But there’s a real possibility it will show us, that I am all clear.
From there to here?
God. Every step.
Take good care and travel safe,
Sami
The bloodwork news of low tumor markers came in the day my sister came to town, quite appropriate timing for such great news celebrating cancer wins with my daughter and sister at the Savannah Bananas!
