“I will sing again someday. But for now, I will praise Him in the midst of this – with all my heart, even in the days ahead when I won’t physically have a voice. My life is in His hands, and even though the path ahead of me is dark, I am putting one foot in front of the other, with enough light to see what needs to be done today. One breath, one moment at a time.”

I wrote that a few days before surgery. I had no idea what was coming, or if I would even still be on this earth two years later!

On October 12, 2015, surgeons removed half of my tongue and reconstructed it with muscle from my forearm. I am healthy and physically healed today — but forever scarred.

Japanese tradition celebrates the concept of “wabi-sabi,” the act of embracing the flawed or the imperfect. Kintsugi, the art of mending broken pottery with liquid gold, creates a masterpiece where the cracks are highlighted, rather than hidden.

I think that is beautiful.

In a culture where people are having their “technology lines” filled (aka “tech neck”…yes, this is an actual thing, and it’s ridiculous), photoshopping every picture taken, always crafting the “perfect body”…

Imagine if we chose to adopt the mindset of wabi-sabi in our everyday lives?

I am broken. I am flawed. I am imperfect.

I forever have to answer the questions. I forever get the curious stares at my neck and left arm. Occasionally my thigh, if I’m wearing shorts.

My scars are a conversation-starter. Or if I eventually point them out myself, the response is, “Oh wow! Yes, I was wondering about that! Thought maybe you were in an accident.”

It takes a lot to freely embrace my “imperfections” and my “flaws”.

Because, by our cultural “perfect” standards, I am no longer.

I am a warrior. I am a champion. I am a survivor.

Being 100% honest, it’s harder some days. I look in the mirror and all I see are my “flaws”. Flaws I should be celebrating! Flaws that are a story of my survivorship and victory.

Flaws that display God’s healing and goodness and ultimate sovereignty in my life.

And BAM. That’s when I have the ultimate perspective change. If I choose to see my scars as glory to the One who created me, His masterpiece, so intricate and unique, with a specific purpose in this life…

Then, my “flaws” are actually the most beautiful part of me. 

My scars are actually lines of liquid gold — made more beautiful through the mending.

I’m grateful for the past two years. They’ve been some of the most difficult, but also the most empowering. So much has changed, but God has walked with me through every moment.

Even so, HE IS GOOD. His plans are perfect. His will is the best for those love Him and are called according to His purpose (Romans 8:28)

So, here’s to whatever’s coming next. He is my constant, when everything I know to be true changes or fades away, He is unfailing. His promise for my life is sure.

There is purpose for the pain. So I embrace it, and I look forward to the future in hope-filled expectation for what He has in store. My life is still completely His.

One breath, one moment at a time.