On Waiting, and What Comes Next

Friends, I’ve been sitting with how to say this, and when to say it, but there really is no easy way to do this.

I’ve been diagnosed with breast cancer.

There are still some testing and decisions to be made. What I know at this point is that the tumor is considered large, and this will be a year long process of treatment and recovery. I recently had a PET scan and we are waiting for clarity on what comes next from a meeting with my oncologist this coming week.

From the outside, most days still look fairly ordinary. Inside, everything feels quietly rearranged, marked by waiting, by uncertainty, by learning how to live without answers for a while.

Sharing this news with family during Christmas, and now others, has felt both tender and strange. The Christmas season holds real joy, and I don’t want to diminish that. But I’ve also been struck by how deeply rooted our faith is in ordinary life — the moments between the highs and the lows.

God doesn’t shy away from the hard moments in our lives. He enters in. His incarnation shows us this in real and tangible ways. I look at our baby savior, in His manger, and see the beauty in God’s plan to take on our weak flesh. To be incarnate. Truly Emmanuel in every way. I’ve never been more thankful of this truth.

This is what has anchored me during these weeks of waiting. Our faith is not lived above the mess of real life but within in. And right now, that matters more to me than tidy answers or perfect spiritual conclusions.

As I step into this season of battling cancer, I’m pausing Weekly Wildflowers. I’m also letting go of a fixed writing rhythm, and will write when I am able to. When there is something real and true to say, and I have the space to say it honestly.

I’m sharing this here because this space has always felt less like a platform and more like a place of being present. I didn’t want to just disappear, but invite you into this moment with me. I don’t plan to share every detail, and I won’t be offering frequent updates. Somethings will remain private. But I also don’t want to stop writing, and sharing how the Lord is moving in and through my days, to share His love and His grace with you all.

So I’ll be here, rooted in a faith that is lived, not performed. And I’m anchoring myself in a God who stays close in the hard places. My writing may look a little different for a while, as I figure all of this out, but I pray that it will continue to bless you.

I ask for your prayers going forward and I look forward to meeting you here as I’m able.

AMDG

Mandy