cancer

When I saw where they had made the incision, a lump began to grow in my throat.

I have been fortunate enough to have never had a close encounter with cancer of any kind. I believe my grandma had a cancer, but she lives many hours away, and I never actually saw her suffering. Growing up, whenever I thought about cancer, I thought of some parasitical sickness that sucks the joy, health, life, and beauty out of you until you are left with a broken family, and a broken spirit unto slow and painful death. I always imagined, in a morbid kind of way, how it would be to wake up and your hair to be left unattached lying on your pillow. The horror of the first time you would see yourself truly naked and exposed. I can't imagine anyone going through cancer or having to stand next to a loved one as they are fighting this losing battle. I like how Ben Gibbard says it "love is watching someone die.."

Well it wasn't so with Lenuta (lay-new-st-ah). She is a mother of many, with five children that are flesh of her flesh, and 7 that she has taken in from homelessness. The first time I saw her, I was hit so strongly by a beauty even an eagle couldn't capture with just one glance. I sat and stared at her for minutes, my mouth open. Her bald head confidentely hatless, left for everyone's stares. I don't know if it was the confidence that made her beauty so renown, or if it was her stark bold eyes. I tried to decide wether it was the way her skin glowed even on a cloudy day, or the way her eyes smiled at the little esoteric realities. This is beauty inexplicable.

She is a victim of cancer, and yet she holds none of the traits I had ever imagined. Her spirit is everything but broken, wild and untameable, yet easily peacable and patient.

I was shocked when she lifted her shirt that day to show me the incision that left her only half a woman, and I was awed as I realized she was more of a woman then I had ever seen in my own gender. Mind you, it was no facade, I have seen her daily for the past month and a half, and not one meeting has left me less amazed.

I have beheld a beauty that can withstand even the most perverse sickness. I have come to the conclusion that it isn't the smile of her eyes, or the glowing of her skin, or the essence that surrounds her, or her confidence, nor all these put together that proclaims her undeniable beauty. I believe it is her spirit within that has withstood even to the face of death that is the declaration of her beauty. I have never beheld Christ's beauty through flesh with my own two eyes, and when I say that I mean TRULY Christ's perfect beauty, and I believe He is radiating through her very essence. I feel the intimate bond she has with Him, and I too know she doesn't fear death, not in the slightest!

So I will say, "SHINE ON!" That others might behold and give glory to the One, as I am glorifying Him now.

I will not desire beauty, but I desire HIS!