mean we won’t face trials or even end up with cancer. But we do have a God Who walks with us in this imperfect life whether our race is long or cut short.
My prayer is that we keep our eyes fixed on the eternal prize and live the life God gave us, focused on Him.
Jenna
I love to hear from readers. Please visit my website at www.jennamindel.com or follow me on www.Facebook.com/authorjennamindel or drop me a note c/o Love Inspired Books, 195 Broadway, 24th Floor, New York, NY 10007.
Nay, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him that loved us.
—Romans 8:37
For those who have run or are running the race.
Acknowledgments
My special thanks to Chrystianna for telling great stories of her two boys. They were my inspiration for Ethan and Owen.
Huge thanks to Aunt Colleen for her insight and knowledge of the process surrounding a diagnosis for breast cancer. I really appreciate it. Love you!
Contents
Note to Readers
Monica Zelinsky had to get away and think. Think. She had just turned thirty and yet life as she knew it was over. From here on out she’d be considered a cancer survivor. If she survived. If the cancer didn’t spread. She prayed it wouldn’t.
Running a hand through her long hair, she grabbed a handful and pulled hard enough to sting. She’d lose this. She’d lose it all, after she’d spent over a hundred and fifty dollars for a highlight. Sure, it might be crazy to think of measly dollars when she faced a much bigger cost, but she couldn’t help it. Getting her hair done had always been something she’d looked forward to.
Keeping her gaze fixed on the road ahead watching for the turnoff, she gave full vent to her fears with a disgusted growl. Hair grew back. Her breasts wouldn’t, and removing them was one of the options she had to consider. She’d need chemo regardless of her surgery choices, having been diagnosed with an aggressive form of breast cancer.
This kind of news should alter a person’s priorities real quick, but it didn’t do a thing to dissolve Monica’s insecurities. She’d never been comfortable with her looks, and now... She blew out another breath. She’d get even more uncomfortable before it was all over.
Tightening her grip on the steering wheel until her knuckles turned white, Monica took the two-track road that led to her uncle’s cabin in the middle of the Upper Peninsula of Michigan.
She had a little less than a week before meeting with a referred cancer team to go over her plan of attack, they’d called it. A war waged inside her body called triple negative breast cancer. She was considered stage two out of four, and so far no lymph nodes were affected. She’d had no idea, no symptoms—not even family history—to give her a heads-up. This had come out of the blue with nothing to tip her off to a problem until she’d found the hard lump in her right breast.
Monica barely noticed the changing color on the trees. It was late August, but fall came early in the UP. Just like this cancer had come way too early in her life.
Cutting the engine, she got out and stretched.
It had been a three hour drive north and west into the middle of nowhere. Her uncle’s cabin sat deep in the Hiawatha National Forest that ran between Munising and Escanaba. She knew the way by heart. She’d been coming here since she was a kid with her family, mostly her older brothers, especially Matthew. He was the keeper of the cabin keys for her family, although for this visit, Monica had to get a set directly from her uncle.
Scanning the chalet-style log