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Thought this was appropriate for the PD list even though it does not directly refer to PD. Hope you enjoy it. If anyone wants to sign up to receive these little devotionals every M-F you can subscribe by writing to: [log in to unmask] --------- Begin forwarded message ---------- From: [log in to unmask] To: (Recipient list suppressed) Subject: G@W - Tuesday, March 31 Date: Mon, 30 Mar 1998 22:02:38 -0600 Message-ID: <[log in to unmask]> No Less a Starfish About eight weeks after my first mastectomy, I agreed to accompany my husband on a business trip to Connecticut and Rhode Island during June, with the understanding that I could rest as much as necessary and not overdo it. In an attempt to make sure we balanced pleasure with business meetings, my husband asked if there was anything special I wanted to do while we were in that beautiful part of the country. Because I grew up in Arizona with desert and dryness I have always had a genuine love of and appreciation for the ocean. I suggested we try to get down to Newport beach if at all possible. For me, there is something therapeutic about the ocean. The waves, walking in the sand, watching the tide, just experiencing the presence of the ocean. Somehow I felt I would feel more connected to nature, myself and the healing process. Armed with a map and directions from the lady who sold us our box lunches, we were on our way. The drive was beautiful and far shorter than we expected. We gathered our things and headed for the shore. I couldn't wait to take off my sandals and scrunch my toes in the wet sand. As we topped a hill, the beach looked like a patchwork quilt of beach blankets. I had never seen so many people on so little sand in all my life. We weaved our way through the crowd toward the water. As I took a step, I looked down, and to my utter surprise, saw a beautiful starfish. I thought to myself, How could this be? All those people, and no one stepped on it or even bent over to pick it up. I was as thrilled as a child. For me it was magic: my own personal gift from the sea. Then I realized something unique about this particular starfish. It had a message - a very special message. One of its arms was bent and curved around. At that moment, from someplace deep within me, I had an overwhelming awareness, a sense of meaning. This was no less a starfish because it had a bent arm, and I was no less a woman because I lost my breasts. I called it my "grace moment." I realized it was no accident that I found myself on that beach, that day, at that moment. This experience was simply an answer to my prayer. I knew I would survive breast cancer from that moment on. Furthermore, I had a message I would willingly share with others. No matter what our setbacks, difficulties or pain, we can get through them. Only through these moments of hell do we reach deep down within our being and discover who we are, what we believe and what is important and "real" in our lives. We experience a "knowing of our soul." Today, I have my little starfish on a special table in my home. Every time I pass it I think of its message. I'm grateful for the insight having cancer gave to me and for a relationship with a God that blesses me with little miracles on a daily basis. Most of all, I am grateful to know in my heart that I am no less a woman because I lost my breasts to cancer. I am more than my limitations. By Katherine Stephens Gallagher Source: http://www.soupserver.com/ God@Work Ministry ([log in to unmask]) St. Mark's United Methodist Church 740 N. 70th St. Lincoln, Nebraska 68505 (402) 489-8885 --------- End forwarded message ----------