Ten Years of Learning to Let Go

This weekend marks 10 years since my breast cancer diagnosis. TEN YEARS. Some days it feels like a lifetime ago. Other days, I can remember the details as if it were yesterday.

Anniversaries have a way of making you stop and think. You think about where you were, what you went through, what changed, and maybe even what you learned along the way.

As I have been thinking about this milestone, I keep coming back to a prayer called the Litany of Humility.

It is a prayer that, if I am being honest, makes me a little uncomfortable.

“From the desire of being esteemed, deliver me, Jesus.”

“From the desire of being loved, deliver me, Jesus.”

“From the desire of being praised, deliver me, Jesus.”

The prayer asks us to let go of so many things we naturally want. We want to be appreciated. We want to be understood. We want people to recognize when we are struggling. We want to feel like we have some control over what happens in our lives.

Ten years ago, I learned just how little control I really had.

Cancer has a way of changing your perspective. It reminds you that life doesn't always follow the plans you make. It reminds you that being strong doesn't mean you aren't scared, and it reminds you that sometimes the only thing you can do is take the next step and trust God to meet you there.

I don't think humility means pretending we are strong enough to handle everything ourselves. Maybe it means recognizing that we aren't, and being willing to depend on God and the people He puts in our lives.

Looking back, I can see how much I needed that. I needed prayers, encouragement, people who showed up, and reminders that I wasn't walking through it alone.

Even now, ten years later, I am still learning.

I am grateful to have no evidence of cancer, but that doesn't mean cancer is completely in the past. There are still scan anxieties, reminders, and moments when those old feelings come back. Sometimes it is hard to explain how something that happened so long ago can still affect you today.

I am still learning to let go of what I cannot control. I am still learning not to measure myself by what other people think. I am still learning that asking for help isn't weakness and that trusting God doesn't mean I always understand His plan.

Maybe that is what humility really looks like. Not thinking less of ourselves, but remembering that we don't have to carry everything ourselves, accepting our vulnerability, and trusting God when we cannot control what comes next.

Ten years ago, cancer changed my life in ways I never would have chosen, but it also reminded me of something I sometimes forget in the busyness of everyday life.
I need God. I need people. And I don't have to have everything figured out.

As I mark this anniversary, I am grateful for the life I have been given, for the people who walked beside me, and for a God who never expected me to walk through it alone.

Maybe that is the humility I am still learning. Maybe that is enough for today.