Bear with me.  This post has a point, I assure you.  The story I’m about to relate may not be the most light-hearted thing you read today, but this is me.  This is real life – with all its craziness, all its ups and downs – and all its lessons learned.

In August 2014, after a radiation treatment for papillary thyroid cancer, I had a full-body scan to determine if the cancer had come back or spread to new areas.  It does this by showing if the patient has any areas of abnormal iodine uptake from the radiation. 

And in my case, I did.  Among other things, my results showed “a focus of increased activity” on my lower left chest that “may be due to metastatic disease to a rib or other etiology.”  

In October 2014, I had a PET/CT scan which showed no distant metastasis.  The scan showed that my cancer had not spread to my ribs.  (It had returned in my lymph nodes, but that’s another story.)

My understanding is that when cancer spreads to your bones, it’s usually incurable.  You just treat the symptoms, manage the pain…and wait.  Thankfully, the second scan clearly showed that I did not have cancer in my bones, but from August to October, I did not know that.  For two months I lived with that “or.”  Either that spot was due to cancer in my ribs or some other benign cause.  Either I was dying, or I wasn’t. 

Did I overreact?  Absolutely. 

Being a cancer patient can make you hypersensitive to things you wouldn’t otherwise notice.  When you spend so much time thinking about what’s going on inside your body and discussing it with doctors, you end up having the body on the brain constantly. 

And in the weeks leading up to that first scan, I had the feeling of a constant cramp in my lower left chest.  (Looking back now, it was probably just from exercising the wrong way, but who knows?  It literally could have been anything other than cancer.)

Perhaps the scan results wouldn’t have alarmed me so much if I didn’t have a symptom that matched up with the worst-case scenario.  But annoyingly, I did.  So, for two months, I waited, and I wondered. 

I couldn’t stop the thoughts that inevitably came.  I thought about telling my family and friends the news and telling them how much they mean to me.  I thought about what my funeral would be like and what worship songs I would want played.  I thought about what kind of legacy I’d be leaving at this age.  And I thought about all the years that would be left unfinished.  

I couldn’t help but think and feel these things in that interim of ignorance.  I carried on as normal – went to work, did the dishes, and planned for each next day.  But it was an eerie time.  I didn’t know if my days were suddenly coming to an end due to an incurable cancer or if I was going to be just fine. 

I am just fine.  But those two months taught me a lesson I hope I’ll never forget.  In those two months, I was reminded to set down the to-do list and pick up the phone.  It was easier to not let little things turn into a big deal.  I was quicker to give unconditional love.  And I took greater pleasure in the simple everyday moments with the ones I love.

Why is it so hard to live with this mentality every day?  Why is it so easy to get lost in the busyness and specifics of day-to-day life that we forget the big picture?  We let details drive us and we forget about purpose, about what matters most.

We all live with the reality of certain death.  Whenever it happens, however it happens, we all have an inevitable end.  And though we don’t often think about it in the midst of day-to-day life – paying bills, running errands, clicking on the next show in our Netflix queue – we need to remember this.  We need to remember that our time on Earth has an expiration date.  And we need to let this breathe life into the time we have left, however long or short that is.

Living like you’re dying is not merely the cliché of going skydiving, or on a shopping spree, or devoting more time to hobbies and pursuing passions.  It’s not just conquering your fears or doing what makes you happy.  That’s part of it, but there’s so much more to it than that.

For me, it’s loving myself enough to say no to another brownie because too much sugar saps my energy, and I want to be alert and ready for everything in my day today.  It’s opening my mouth to speak up in small group even though it would be easier just to sit and listen.  It’s putting down the novel I’m currently devouring and picking up my laptop to blog because I want to do the work God has called me to do.   

It’s being an active participant in life and not just a spectator.  It’s choosing to take responsibility for my own life.  And it’s leaning into life as God intends it – life lived in love and service to God and others.  Because there’s so much more to life than another brownie or the number one show on Netflix. 

God has so much more for us.  And I don’t want to miss out on a single thing.  I don’t want to waste any time in the short time I have.  I don’t want the potential He’s placed in me to remain unfulfilled.  In His strength, empowered by the Holy Spirit, I want to live “the life that is truly life.” (1 Timothy 6:19 NIV) 

And that life is something that is available to us all – whether we are pre-teens or senior citizens, whether we’re in perfect health or have cancer in our ribs. 

So, let’s go through the daily details – the mundane tasks, the larger responsibilities, everything we face – with the knowledge that each day is a precious gift.  And let’s choose to live life to the fullest – each and every day we have left. 

“So teach us to consider our mortality, so that we might live wisely.”

Psalms 90:12 NET