I have a story to tell. It's a big story, full of intrigue and adventure, impossibilities made possible, and imperfect people living imperfect lives watched over by a perfect God.
It will move wrong-ways through time and geography. It will start where I am and reach back to where I was, and it'll hopefully continue for a bit into where I am going. I hope you will listen to my story, that it will be some gift to you of encouragement, support, and just plain love, because the whole reason for me to share my story is love.
I'm going to start right where I am right now. This has been a big year for my household (I'll explain what that means in the context of my life later)--two of us have been diagnosed with cancer this year, two of us have teenaged daughters on the brink of supposed adulthood (hah!), and one of us finally(!) got the kind of job he's been dreaming of and working to take for several years. I am Ashima, and I am one of the first and second twos.
I was diagnosed in late March of this year with astrocytoma (after melanoma, and again, more later). One of the most significant characters in the story I'm sharing is My Brain Tumor. That's because I am hoping to come to terms with the experience and aftermath of my cancer partially by writing about it here as my God continues to work it out in me and reveal the way He has used it to show me just how much He loves me and has kept me through it all.
I was talking to a friend this morning (Susan Fitzpatrick, the mother of Jason Fitzpatrick of the Village Global in Mexico), and I was describing how God had worked through the different problems I have had over the past year or two to bring my cancer to light so that I could be treated. Now, every time I tell someone my story, I or they make yet another connection back to Him and things He has worked in my life that led to the amazing and miraculous way he has saved me--and indeed, is still saving me. Each time I talk, I receive a blessing of more assurance that He loves me, He keeps me, He is faithful to me. I REALLY want to avoid meaningless, mushy, religious claptrap in this story, because I want to talk to you as a friend and tell you a true and important story that will somehow be a gift that honors the reader too, and I want you to be able to connect with me and feel like I'm a real person... BUT sometimes I have to use old words to describe my new life, and besides, what is language but an assemblage of old words (more on that later, too)?
I was interrupted by a rather nasty disagreement over an unwashed chicken pot with my daughter, so I'll have to continue later... but I'm very excited to tell you my story, so it will be soon.
Love, Ashima
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