the disease caused by an uncontrolled division of abnormal cells in a part of the body; a malignant growth or tumor resulting from the division of abnormal cells (Google)
My dad died because of cancer. I know so many others whose lives have ended or changed because of cancer. I’m passionate about finding cures and treatments and supporting people through their journeys.
Without cancer, my dad (and mom) wouldn’t have met some amazing doctors, nurses, and patients.
Without cancer, my dad (and mom) wouldn’t have been able to have the impact on others while encouraging them from personal experiences.
Without cancer, who knows what else we would have missed? Whose lives wouldn’t have intersected? How much less would we have appreciated times together? Would we have relied on others, reached out for help, and built faith and strength by repeatedly wrestling through the tough questions, uncertainties, and decisions?
Maybe you’ve seen the movie Collateral Beauty. It’s a tough one to watch, but it has some important points in it. Beauty can come from ashes. Beauty doesn’t replace the ashes. We face them both. But we can’t have one without the other.
It’s easy sometimes for us to say “I’d give up this for that with no hesitation.” But what if we could see all the pieces, how everything is connected? If we truly understood, what would we choose?
I know we can’t know the true answer to that question, but neither can we assume we understand it all, that we can easily separate the good and bad and have it one way or another.
We consider life and death and separate the two: Life is good. Death is bad.
But then we look more closely: Life is good sometimes. And it’s bad sometimes.
And death isn’t really all that bad. In fact, it’s good.
And life isn’t really life without death. And death is life.
And maybe we need to pause before making such sweeping judgments. Maybe we need to be willing to expectantly watch for the beauty that comes from ashes.