Jirah and the Biopsy
| A Ten Minute Mentor |
I’m laying in a small dark room, waiting with anxious anticipation to hit play. The song “Jirah” is cued up, ready to be repeated over and over and over again. It’s always someone else’s crisis until it’s yours. Yesterday, it was all mine.
A routine mammogram had turned into an ultrasound which turned into a biopsy and now, here I was, in that small dark room. A few professional and extremely kind women were preparing me for the test. With warm assurances they positioned my body so that the machine would have the clearest views, capturing the small fibrous problem on film for further examination.
When they asked if I was ready, I hit play and assured them that, yes, I was ready. I am stoic when it comes to these moments of crisis.
“Jirah” by Maverick City Music is a long song; it’s 10 minutes from start to finish. Every single second was a battle as the song repeated in my ears. I took deep breaths and kept my eyes shut, refusing to see the screen displaying an image of my breast, needle inserted and the rebellious little spot that was causing all the concern. It didn’t hurt. I couldn’t feel anything except the kind hands of the nurse standing at my head. She was rubbing my arm as if we had been friends for our entire lives. Her name was Kelly. Where did she learn such kindness? I quietly whispered prayers and thanked Jesus for so distinctly being in the room.
I murmured thanksgivings in faith as I listened to “Jirah.” The word Jirah means “the Lord will provide,” and I felt His assurance that he is seeing, experiencing and making a provision for all of my needs. Even in the most vulnerable position, something inside of me felt strong.
My physical body was numb from the injected medication but my mind was hyper alert and my spirit was peaceful. As I declared life and health over myself, the hollow needle sunk into my breast and collected little bits of tissue. The Holy Spirit and the lyrics kept reminding me that I’ve never been more loved than in this moment, that He is my portion and in every circumstance, He is more than enough.
I was scared but believe me, Jirah was in the room. I didn’t want to have breast cancer. NOBODY DOES. I didn’t want to walk down that hard dark road. NOBODY DOES. I desperately didn’t want my family to have to walk it with me. NOBODY DOES.
Isn’t it ironic that professionally, I’m in the middle of developing a Resilience Training Program for women? I’m creating an experience alongside a Psychotherapist trained in this arena. I am learning what it takes to make us more resilient and ready for the shit-storms that are sure to come.
I don’t have the answer but:
I try to have at least one friend that I can talk to about hard things.
I try to stay calm and be confident, but prepared.
I have a plan either way.
I try to give myself a little grace and be kind to myself.
I try to be my own good friend.
I try to know that either way, I am going to be okay.
I remind myself how strong I am, because Jesus lives in me.
I breathe deep breaths, and am ready to celebrate when it’s over.
I try to remember that I’m worthy, chosen and loved.
I think about my future and picture a whole and healthy life.
I don’t accept crap from anyone, but I’m kind.
And I listen to “Jirah” by Maverick City just about every day.
A few days after the biopsy, I was numb. Aimlessly walking around the mall, I got that call I’d been simultaneously anxiously awaiting and dreading. It was my doctor. She told me that the biopsy was clear and there were no unhealthy cells to be found.
At that moment, I realized my entire world could have just changed. And it did. I have a new-found compassion for women in that circumstance. I also have a new depth to my own gratitude. I stood there and wept heavy tears. Grateful that I didn’t have to walk that road but weeping for the countless women who do.
The experience that was so outside of my comfort zone taught me something. It stretched and grew me in ways I never could have anticipated. So I have to be thankful for it. For all of it.
Warmly,
Kim Gomez, Author + Founder