April 1

I was the apple of her eye.  She loved me beyond imagination.  She would tickle my back until I fell asleep, all the while telling me stories.  She purchased the red fire truck I chose from the top shelf of the hardware store and one year she made sure we had matching navy blue jackets to wear.  On Sunday afternoons, we played church together; she directed the choir and I was the preacher (we even had communion with peanuts and grape juice). She took me shopping, she TRIED to teach me to play the piano, she laughed uncontrollably as we played together in the pool…..well she pretty much did anything I wanted.  Through all of this she taught me about Jesus. She freely shared God’s love and significantly formed me in my faith. When she was diagnosed with ovarian cancer, I saw her live her faith. She found her strength in Christ and had courage to face life without fear. One of the hardest things for her to let go of was life itself.  Don’t get me wrong, she wasn’t afraid to die. She simply wanted to live. She wanted to live because she lived life to the fullest. She was my Aunt Jane.

I have thought of Aunt Jane so much since being diagnosed with breast cancer.  She taught me how to live and how to die. She died on April 1, 1998. It was quite appropriate that Jane died on April fools day because she loved to joke and laugh.  Her birth into eternity was a Big April Fools jokes to cancer because cancer and death did not have the final word. Jane continued to live and experience the fullness of life on the other side of eternity.

I felt such comfort when they scheduled my surgery for April 1.  My journey towards healing begins in her memory 21 years after she entered the church triumphant.  I will carry her courage, strength and faith with me. I will live as she showed me embracing life without fear and committing to embracing the fullness of life.  

My mom is another woman who lives her faith.  She is the most selfless person I know. She loves all and welcomes all into her life….no matter what.  I am who I am because of her. I have always wanted to be just like her. I didn’t realize we would both be fighting cancer at the same time. Tomorrow is her 3rd chemotherapy treatment. I have watched her courage and joy shine as she embraces cancer and chemo. I will live as she is showing me embracing cancer and not allowing it to take away my joy!

And then there are 3 little girls who remind me of all that is to come.  They are part of me and I am part of them. When I told them about my diagnosis, I told them “your mom is strong as shit.”  It immediately changed their tears into disbelief because I had said a 4 letter word.  I will live with courage and strength, so  they can see my faith in Christ and will embrace life with courage and strength and joy.

April 1, 2019 is in memory of Jane Wooten Hartzog and in honor of Kathy Goforth Wooten, Ella Grace Queen, Mattie Jane Queen, and Kate Marie Queen. Once again the joke is on cancer.     We are all #shebossstrong. And #godsgotthis.

My Aunt Jane

My Mama and My Girls 

I Have Cancer

I have been around cancer my whole life.  Granny was the first person I remember having cancer.  She died the summer before I went to 4th grade.  I learned right away that cancer wasn't pretty.  Granny spent a lot of time in bed and she couldn't get better.  I missed the biscuits she would make or the round cookies that fit on my ring finger that she would always buy for me.

Then there was my Aunt Jane.  She was my dad's sister and was like a second mom to me.  She didn't have children of her own, and I was the only grandchild on that side of the family.....so she loved me as her own.  My senior year of high school she got sick and was diagnosed with ovarian cancer.  I watched her fight through surgeries, chemotherapy, medicines, and lots of doctor visits.  I saw her courage the day her hair fell out and she decided to throw clumps of her dark hair outside for the birds to use to make a nest. I witnessed her put aside plans and dreams because she was so hopeful that chemo would help her live.  I sat and held her hand the night that doctors told her there wasn't anything else they could do and didn't expect her to live through the night.  After that I visited her in the care facility and would go get her a hot dog or a milkshake because she thought that sounded good, only to have her not take a bite.  I said goodbye more times than I wish to count.  Jane fought hard.  Jane taught me how to live and how to die.  She deeply impacted my life and my call to ministry,

A few years later, standing in my parent's kitchen, my dad would tell me he had been diagnosed with prostate cancer "and its aggressive."  My Uncle Joe and my cousin Ben both faced that diagnosis.  And then just a few weeks ago I walked into my mom's hospital room.  She was wrapped in a prayer shawl.  Dad told me to sit down that pathology came back from mom's surgery and she has colon cancer.

I have held the hands of numerous parishioners dealing with cancer.  I have prayed with them, cried with them, and visited them.  I will never forget embracing two teenage boys, one under each arm, as they walked out of their mom's hospital room knowing it was their last visit with her on this side of eternity.  I have volunteered for hospice and been an advocate for the amazing work they provide.  I have walked in the Relay for Life and given money to the American Cancer Society. I have bought luminaries in honor or memory of family members.

Cancer has always been part of my life.  I have always known it shows no partiality.  it is nasty.  It is heartbreaking.  It inflicts pain.  It is life changing.  And now I have to pause every time I say, "I have cancer."  Yes, "I have cancer."  Now the story is mine.  I was sitting with my mom at her first chemotherapy appointment when the surgeon called with my biopsy results.  We found cancer and we will need to talk about next steps.

Tomorrow I begin the journey towards treating my cancer.  I have a procedure scheduled to identify the tumor in preparation for surgery on Monday.  After surgery, there will be pathology reports of the mass and lymph nodes, more doctors visits, radiation and hormone therapy for sure.  Oncotypes will determine if chemo is necessary.  Perhaps more scans if the lymph nodes are involved.  For now, it truly sucks to say, "I have cancer."  It is raw.  It brings unanticipated tears to my eyes.  It makes me angry to think that my body has failed me.  It makes me angry to think about how my girl's worlds have been rocked this year because two of the women they love the most now have cancer.  Yes, "I have cancer."

Cancer is now part of my story and yet it is not the only story.  My identity is found in the fact that I am a beloved child of God.  So, while I do have cancer.  I also have a God who walks ahead of me; walks alongside of me; and promises to never allow me to walk alone.  I have cancer AND I have God. 

A New Club

Today is International Women’s Day.  I have always been an advocate for women’s rights.  I have always been encouraged to be what I wanted to be, to speak up for myself and others, and to never settle for anything.  As an only child, I was rightly called bossy. Today I call that leadership.

My grandfather used to say there was no such thing as a SHE Boss.  However, he knew better than that, he was married to a very independent and outspoken woman and he was the father to three girls who grew to be strong, independent women known as “the Goforth girls.”  Four of his 5 grandchildren were all girls and have grown to be strong, independent women. I am raising 3 girls, who have strong opinions, speak their minds, stand up for themselves, and are certainly SHE bosses in the making.  (I often wonder where their determination comes from?!).

I am a proud graduate of a woman’s college.  At Meredith College, I earned a BS in Biology that taught me to think and reason.  I was shaped by my advisor, Dr. Swab who insisted that I write and speak clearly. I was gifted with friends who became like sisters, and I am forever grateful for an education that taught me to lead and love.  

When God called me into ordained ministry, I never considered that some would disagree with a woman’s role in the life of the church.  I remember the day I was told in the Cardiac Care Unit that the doctor called for the Chaplain not his secretary, or the day the pastor let me know his church would not be participating in a community Thanksgiving Service because he preaches and teaches against women in the pulpit, or the day the church directory photographer told me he was not used to preachers looking pretty like me.  I am the first female senior pastor at the church I currently serve. Some call me and sister clergy “incompatible with Christian teaching,” but nevertheless we preach, teach and lead.

This week I joined another club of strong and independent women.  I was diagnosed with breast cancer on Monday. A mass showed-up on a routine mammogram (the second I had ever had) which led to more images and a biopsy.  I have met with a surgeon, a genetic counselor, my family doctor, and I have been in conversation with an oncologist this week. This was a club that I never hoped to join, and yet here I find myself with countless other women who have faced breast cancer.  I am 41 years old, and I am ready to fight. I am strong (as I told me twins, strong as ****). This will not have the last word. I will not be defined by cancer. I will live into my faith and my strength will be defined by the power of God that lives within me.  This She Boss is ready to fight.

*** if you have been putting off a routine examination for early detection.  Please, use this as a friendly and BOSSY reminder to make an appointment.