Touch Him in Faith for Power

So, I’m that mom, right? The one who detests McDonald’s, Burger King, and most other fast food chains. I’m the mom who cringes when she sees someone offer her child a burger or chicken nuggets from anywhere but Chick-Fil-A (yes, somewhere in my head, that’s much better)…feel free to judge me.

I’m that mom who follows the doctor’s orders: no juice, just water; more veggies, a few fruits; go easy on sugar, etc. I do my best to follow the same rules. I don’t drink soda or juice and haven’t consistently for over five and two years respectively. I don’t purchase or eat red meat (unless we go to a restaurant and it’s been a while). I workout rigorously at least twice a week, and I calorie count…oh boy, do I count my calories.

So, when I started feeling fatigued often, despite all I do, I was encouraged by a friend to see my doctor. Well, the tests came in and I was found deficient of certain vitamins, walking around with an infection, and told I had high cholesterol. Great! (NOT!)

Then, I went for my annual women’s exam after skipping out on the exam the previous year. Afterward, I was told my breast exam was abnormal and that I needed a mammogram. Me? A mammogram before 40 years of age? I was always of the understanding that one doesn’t get a mammogram until the age of 40.

After getting the run-around for three weeks, I was finally seen this week. I was shuffled between technicians, no one giving me an answer. The mammogram I waited for three weeks to have done resulted in the need of an ultrasound. I was perspiring like crazy, since I wasn’t allowed to wear deodorant/antiperspirant or lotion, so I was ashy as could be, too.

My scans were submitted, and within ten minutes I was told I had fibroadenoma. I was told it wasn’t cancerous and was not a cyst. I was told I had two small growths, at 9 o’clock and 12 o’clock. I was informed that they could grow but would most likely not decrease in size or just disappear.

I was just confused. I watch what I eat. My family has no history of cancer, but yet I have to go in every six months for two years, to ensure the growths don’t grow. I’m instructed to call if they begin to hurt. All the while, my only thoughts are, “They aren’t cancerous. I have more time to live the life I’ve been blessed with. I get to be a wife, mother, and friend longer. I have a faithful God Who heals, so whatever fibroadenoma is and could potentially be, I have faith that it can dissolve and just disappear.

Mamas, our babies need us. We need to take care of ourselves in order to be healthy enough to take care of them. The doctors are there for a reason. If you feel your strength waning, like something just isn’t right, get yourself looked at, it doesn’t hurt. Even if you have faith to move mountains, I believe that knowing what “it” is gives you a name to call it, so you can fight “it” with all you have with the power beyond yourself.   

You may not believe in a power above yourself, but I certainly do. I call that “power” Jesus. I’ve seen how He healed my aunt of Lupus, brought my brother to life, and have heard stories of people who have been given a few years to live due to cancer and who were told that by some miracle, they are cancer-free.  

The name of Jesus has power. I choose to believe. I choose to touch Him in faith for power. That’s my choice.