Why pink sucks this month

It’s October 16th and I’m finally wearing pink. Reluctantly.

I hate Breast Cancer Awareness Month. First off I want to call it something else. Who isn’t freaking aware of Breast Cancer? Who hasn’t been touched or destroyed by it? We should call it Breast Cancer Fight Month or Kick Breast Cancer’s Butt Month. Because it all has us running scared.Secondly, why we do wear pink? it’s like we’re having a flipping birthday party for cancer. I want to wear black, and skulls, and biker boots. I hate cancer. Pink is joyous. Black means war.  I also feel when we are scared at some point we just need to do an about face, look our fear straight in the eye or the best we can and either scream or whimper “not this one. ”

Of course Breast Cancer Awareness month would fall in October. My mom’s birthday is October. She would have been 64 this year. But cancer took her before her 40th birthday. And it still makes me so angry. Other people are healed sometimes from cancer. God told me no for this side of heaven. I still struggle with that one. I typically don’t take being told “no” very well. But I ultimately trust that He really knows what He is doing. And the word “no” really translates in my head to “not now.” Besides, if I can’t have my mom here, where else would I want to have her but heaven. It’s a great incentive for attempting to live a life worthy of the calling of God. I will be with her again. She will be whole and not ravaged by a disgusting disease. My broken heart will be whole is well. Maybe we will wear pink together.

Hope. It seems like a weak word. I hope you feel better. I hope things turn around. I hope you aren’t angry. The dictionary defines as something like we hope something may happen eventually. Something we have no control over. But the bible defines hope has “elpis.” This word means without we have without a doubt, we have an absolute guarantee proof through our trust of God. I dig this hope. I need rock hard evidence that this life full of disappointment, danger, disease, and death is not the final game. I need that solid hope of something more than I can even imagine to come. I cling to that hope that will not disappoint. (Romans 5:5)

So today I wear pink but if you see me picture it as black body armor. I hope for cures. I hope for dignified treatments. I hope for those fighting. I hope to see those who have gained their cure in heaven.

We rejoice in the glory of God, not with uncertainty but with joyful anticipation — guaranteed.

Colossians 1:5