Tag Archives: life

cancer is a life sentence.

Sept 2013 iphone 709

When my mom found out she had stage four metastatic breast cancer, my dad would always tell people, “We have cancer.”

Little did he know that he actually did. Today my dad received his full diagnosis. Stage four small B-cell Follicular Lymphoma. Is empathy a carcinogen?

He stayed by her side through surgery, chemo, more surgery and more treatments, guarding her against pushing herself too hard (the feisty redhead needed that) and reminding her that it was going to be worth it.

How did he know it would be?

Something inside of him just said they were in this together.

And I’ve been watching. Honestly, there is something FIERCE happening here. So I have come to the conclusion that even though I don’t have cancer, my parents both now have the benefit of something I do not: PERSPECTIVE.

I want to live like I know I’m dying.

Cancer can’t take everything away. It will alter your family, it will change your body, but it cannot force you to surrender your will.

And so, I think…perhaps I can live in a new way. Every day AWARE. Present moments ENGAGED. Fully given before I am TAKEN.


“You prepare a table before me IN THE PRESENCE OF my enemies.
You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.”
[Psalm 23:5]

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“wide awake”

At first glance, they appear safe. But how safe are they…really?

The sun is dawning on the wind. The smells of a slowly heating valley find their way to three nocturnal noses…spending the last moments of their day standing at attention. What happens next could be very important.

This painting is a prophetic call from the Creator of the wilderness to “wake up.

But why? What dangers could possibly be lurking under a canopy of beauty as this? Surely sleep is more beneficial, you know, to one’s health.

Like Jesus’ parables, many hear but not understand. “Nice picture,” they will say. But the purpose of a parable is to stretch into the soul of the ready, to dawn an understanding of the times. What if today were your last day?

Never before have I felt the outreach of a painted message as I did this one. Perhaps that is why the first attempt failed miserably.

Acrylic on Canvas
by Misty Bedwell

Canvas generously donated by www.tonymayoart.com


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