One Touch

This is it. This is my story. Nothing too long. Nothing too big. It’s no big deal. It is how I just kept moving on, pressing on, and holding my chin up all while secretly crying out in pain and distress. It is just a story. Everyone feels this way. Someone out there must know me, right? Well, yes and no. I lost my grandmother, who we all called “Oma” and my mom, within four months of each other when I was eighteen years old. They both fought cancer together. My Mom was diagnosed with duodenal carcinoma in the fall of 2008, and my grandmother was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer the following year. Both of them made me who I am today, and to say I miss them is an understatement. So this is my story. It is the story of how the grief of losing them nearly swept over me. Ultimately, It’s the story of how I came to not just know Jesus, but love Jesus. It’s the story of how God brought me from a place of shame and regret to a place of hope and healing. From feeling like I had no voice to speaking up. From sinner to saved, from lost to found, and most importantly from little girl to daughter of the Highest King. It is the real, truthful story of how I kept moving on, pressing on, and pulling up my bootstraps—until that didn’t work anymore. It is how I kept that mask tight over my aching heart. It is just the story of how God rescued even me. Because well, no one, not even God, could love all that, right? Wrong. And it all happened with just. one. touch.