And I know He watches me.

There's nothing and I mean *nothing* about my life that God does not see. Occasionally, I get a reminder of that. And sometimes I get a slap-you-upside-the-head reminder, like over the weekend.

I have briefly shared here that my Mom is a breast cancer survivor. Before her diagnosis just after her 50th birthday in 2004, the only other member of my family to have cancer died after 14 months of "there's nothing we can do". So I have to admit, when I got the call from my dad about my Mom, that's where my brain took me.

And there wasn't much logic in my brain for several weeks. I had gotten myself convinced that she was going to die- *I* was going to have to live the rest of my days without her. You know, cuz it's all about me. Oh wait.

She said something to me on Easter Sunday of 2005 that I will never forget. She had just had her last chemo appointment and didn't deal with that one very well in particular. I don't remember what we were talking about, honestly; but the part that I remember is her saying, "Don't you know your God better than that?"

I'm ashamed to admit to you that at that time, no, I didn't.

At the same time, I can say to you that now I do. I have come to the place (I think) that should God decide that he wants one of my family members in eternity with Him, I'd be okay. I'm sure that I'd be sad, but I have wonderful Godly support through my church family.

And He watches me.

He knew that she was going to fight cancer from the minute she was born. And He knew that cancer and fear of losing her was what it was going to take for me to lean on HIM.

And, of course, I'm thrilled to report that Mom is cancer free, by God's grace. And I did more growing in Christ in that year that I had done in all my years growing up as a PK. (that's preacher's kid, in case you don't know.)

So, I'm proud to say that I took it a bit better Friday evening when I got a phone call from my Dad. It's a call that I *knew* would probably come; but I had hoped that it'd sail right on by.

Dad was diagnosed with prostate cancer on Friday. He's 55.

For a minute, I went back to my place of fear. Okay, maybe it was for more than a minute. Even "easily treatable and highly surviveable" cancer isn't fun. And for the next minute, I felt some good 'ol "gloom and doom" for myself and both of my younger siblings.

A kind of "if cancer killed grandpa....and Mom has had it...and Grandpa G had it...and now DAD, where in the world does that leave us?!? That's it, give up hope; some form of cancer is in our future!"

But wait a second. That's the old me.

The more deeply rooted me can lean on Christ, can cry on Jon's shoulder and fight the good fight. No matter what.

Because as much of a surprise as both diagnosis's have been to me; they weren't a surprise to my Heavenly Father. Not for a minute.

Not that any one of us has all the answers. Cuz believe me, we don't. And not that I'm not scared, because I am. But in a place of sheer panic and terror? No.

Trusting that God has good planned for my Dad and for every single person who loves him? Absolutely.

No matter what.