10/01/2026
Ten years.
Ten years since I heard the words, âYou have breast cancer.â
I rarely talk about my cancer journey, and I share even less of it here. But this October feels different. This year marks a decade since my diagnosis, and somehow ten years feels worthy of looking back.
Ten years since these photos were takenâthe day I shaved my head because cancer had already begun taking my hair.
What followed was a decade that held more than I ever could have imagined. Pain. Debilitating grief. Trauma that took years to even recognize, much less begin to heal from. Body-changing surgeries, mind-altering medications, energy-zapping treatments, and the physical, mental and emotional mountains that come with a diagnosis that changes the way you see your body, your life and your future.
For a long time, I think I lived in survival mode without even realizing I was surviving.
But that isnât the whole story.
These ten years have also held transformation. Growth. Healing. An abundance of goodness and overwhelming depths of joy. Beautiful ordinary days that I once wasnât sure I would get to have.
And woven through every single part of it has been Jesus.
In the fear, He was there.
In the grief, He was there.
In the uncertainty, He was there.
And in every beautiful thing that came after, He was there.
His strength when I had none. His Word when my thoughts couldnât be trusted. His promises when the future terrified me. His joy in places I didnât think joy could exist. His faithfulness, over and over and over again.
Without Him, what is there?
Ten years later, I look around at my life and see so many things I once prayed for sitting right in front of me.
So when my mind wanders too far into the future and starts stumbling over the what-ifs, I bring it back here.
To today.
To the people I love.
To the life I have been given.
To all that God has done.
I donât know what the next ten years will hold. None of us do.
But today, I am here.
And today, I am grateful.
Thank You, Jesus, for the here and now.
đ¸ Kate Elizabeth
