March 28, 2006: Tuesday – The Peace That Passes All Understanding

The day of the operation is tomorrow. It’s finally here! What was my attitude? “Bring it on!”

Was I nervous today? Not to start with but then as we packed for our stay overnight at our son’s home, and I remembered what the hospital asked us to bring with us (a copy of my Living Will), my excitement gave way to nerves. It wasn’t so much of a case of the ‘what ifs’ during surgery but the ‘what afters’ when it was all said and done. The unknown is a scary place!

We picked up the mail on the way out of town. There was a card from my sister, Sue, and one from our closest neighbor. Additionally, there were two letters from our granddaughters, Amanda (13) and Marissa (9). Written over their school’s Spring Break, they both expressed how much they loved and missed me. Mandy wished me good health. Marissa said that she’d give $100 to me (which she really, really would like to have for herself!) if she had it to give. Every time I recalled their letters throughout the day, it felt like I was being hugged all over.

Rex and I went to the temple today. For most of the time, the peace that the temple brings neutralized my anxious feelings so that I simply felt ’flat.’ It was towards the end our time there that the “peace of God which passes all understanding” (Philippians 4:7) opened the ’windows of heaven.’ I prayed, as I have so constantly, for the cancer to be gone from my body after tomorrow. As if in answer, into my mind came the sweet knowledge that I have not asked amiss all this time. It will be gone.

I had another strong impression to seek what it is that Heavenly Father wants me to do each day. Then I felt impressed that what He wants me to do is do something out of pure love each day for myself. This might sound selfish to some people (including myself) but the reality is that this will be a most difficult assignment. I rarely, rarely do anything that benefits only me. I’m always thinking as how this or that will help this person or that group of people. Yet, I know that this directive, this change, is so that I might no longer ‘fit’ the breast cancer patient’s psychological profile again. Fulfilling the terms of our covenant that Heavenly Father has expressed is as necessary to my present and continued well-being as (physical) hormone therapy…

In the late evening before retiring to bed, I received a blessing preparatory to tomorrow’s operation. This time, I remembered two things of note: 1) I’d sleep well (and I did, surprisingly!) and 2) I’d wake up happy from the operation. The second promise laid the foundation for the first, I believe!