When I received my stage four breast cancer diagnosis, the world seemed to tilt. The news hit like a tidal wave, and I found myself swept into the stages of grief—denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. Unlike the textbook progression, my journey through these stages was swift, guided by a profound moment of divine clarity. God’s gentle but firm rebuke reminded me that fretting over death or what would become of the loved ones I’m leaving behind was a waste of the precious time I have here on earth. With faith as my anchor, I moved toward acceptance faster than I ever thought possible. But six years into this battle, I’ve learned that acceptance is not a destination—it’s a cycle, and it’s one that families of the patients’ struggle to keep pace with.
Grief, I’ve found, is not a straight path. Even now, I occasionally dip back into bargaining, wondering if one more treatment or one more prayer could shift the odds. It’s human nature to wrestle with “what ifs.” But my faith has been the steady hand guiding me back to acceptance. That moment of divine clarity early in my diagnosis was a turning point. It wasn’t about denying the reality of my illness or raging against it (don’t get me wrong, I still follow my doctor’s instructions and will until the treatments reduce my quality of life to below acceptable); it was about surrendering to God’s plan and trusting that every moment I have is a gift to be lived fully. This perspective didn’t erase the pain, but it gave me peace—a peace that has sustained me through countless treatments, hospital stays, and uncertain days.
What I didn’t anticipate was how my family’s grief would unfold differently. While I’ve found a rhythm in navigating this journey, my loved ones are often caught in a lag, grappling with their own stages of grief. When I’ve reached acceptance, they’re still wrestling with anger, depression, or bargaining—hoping for a miracle I’ve already made peace with not needing. It’s a strange dissonance. I’ve noticed this pattern over the six years of my fight: the patient often moves toward acceptance first, while the family plays catch-up.
This gap can be challenging. When I’m ready to focus on living in the present—cherishing small joys like a quiet morning coffee or a laugh with my kids—my family’s lingering grief can pull me back. They fight battles I’ve let go of, worrying about outcomes I’ve entrusted to God. Their love drives them to bargain for more time, to feel anger at the unfairness, or to sink into depression over what might come. I understand it; their hearts are breaking for me and for themselves. But when they’re not on the same page, it can feel like I’m fighting their fights instead of living my own truth.
For families walking this path, I urge you to strive for alignment with your loved one. Listen to where they are in their journey. If they’ve reached acceptance, honor that by meeting them there. It doesn’t mean giving up hope—it means trusting their peace. For me, that peace comes from God, who reminds me daily that my time here is enough. Acceptance isn’t resignation; it’s freedom to live fully in each moment. By joining me in that space, my family allows me to focus on joy, not their grief.
As I continue this journey, I hold fast to faith and the belief that acceptance is a gift we can all share. It’s a gift that lets us live, love, and laugh together, unburdened by what we cannot control.
Three Bible Verses to Reflect On: These verses highlight the importance on living in the present, not taking it for granted, because we don’t have a clue what the future truly holds for us…it is our mission to make the most out of every moment the Lord offers us!
1. Philippians 4:6-7 (NIV):
“Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”
This verse aligns with your experience of finding peace through faith, emphasizing that surrendering worries to God brings a peace that supports acceptance of life’s circumstances.
2. Psalm 23:4 (NIV):
“Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.”
This verse reflects the comfort and trust in God’s presence that helped you move toward acceptance, even in the face of a serious illness, reinforcing the idea that faith can guide one through fear and grief.
3. James 4:14-15 (NIV):
“Why, you do not even know what will happen tomorrow. What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes. Instead, you ought to say, ‘If it is the Lord’s will, we will live and do this or that.’”locks and patterns in your post.
Metastatic Hope 
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