For most Filipinos, the -ber months (September through December) mean one thing: Christmas season. I grew up celebrating from September all the way through Three Kings Day in January. These days I don’t decorate that early anymore, but something inside me still shifts when September comes. Summer ends, Children’s Ministry slows down (just a little…very little), and I pivot toward Operation Christmas Child (OCC). It’s the start of cozy vibes and giving. As the slogan of OCC puts it (taken from Luke 2:10), it’s a season of Good News, Great Joy. But this year, fall looks different.
A Season of Appointments
While pumpkin flavored everything was in full swing, I was in waiting rooms. It started with a doctor visit, then referrals, scans, and more tests. By the end of September, I had a diagnosis: Papillary Thyroid Cancer. Later, I found out I also have sleep apnea. Instead of a season of Good News, Great Joy, it’s been a season of “and.” Good news and bad. Great joy and sadness.
Among the bad news and sadness, there were beautiful things, too. Ministry events that reminded me how much our church is growing. Church hoodies were finished and ready to go (they raised mission ministry funds). OCC display was all set up. Even as my calendar filled with medical appointments, it also filled with moments of purpose and creativity.
Fall felt like holding two things at the same time. The good and the bad. The joy and the sadness. The light and the heavy, all at once.
Silver Linings and Small Mercies
The cancer I have is the “easy” kind, if there is such a thing. It’s treatable, an outpatient surgery, and with over 95% survival rate. The sleep apnea isn’t fun, but it’s manageable. There are clear next steps.
Maybe that’s why I’m not devastated. It feels like I’m supposed to because it’s still cancer, it’s still surgery I’m facing, and it’s still more diagnoses added to my health issues. But I’m not spiraling like I normally would be. I have peace.
It’s not even the kind of peace that surpasses understanding. Instead, it’s an understanding of peace. I know where I stand. I know Who holds me. I’m not adrift or unstable. I feel like the house built on the rock (Matthew 7:25). I’m standing on a firm foundation. The rains came down, the floods came up, the winds blew, and I am not shaken.
That reads like I have all the bravado in the world. I don’t. I’m confused, actually. Shouldn’t I be shaken? Is this me being numb? Am I bottling up emotions that would explode one day? Yet all I return to is peace.
Firm Foundation
I’ve felt the miraculous kind of peace before, the kind that makes no sense in chaos. This time feels different. This time, the peace does make sense. I see the storm, but it’s smaller than it could be. Maybe God scaled it down. Maybe He knows I’m a fast learner and didn’t need the full storm to understand His strength and mercy in seasons of trials. Or maybe there’s no grand lesson at all. Maybe this is just life, and God’s grace in it.
Either way, I’m thankful. Fall 2025 didn’t start how I imagined, but it’s still full of Good News and Great Joy because Jesus is my firm foundation, and in Him, there is peace I can understand.
Praying for you, precious friend!!