How am I going to walk through those doors once again? I stood outside the same big double doors leading to the surgical suite where Rob's doctor and I leaned over him and delivered the news all of us fear: stage IV cancer. I was about to relive every detail of that nightmarish morning. 
But like most hurdles, I feebly grasped my faith and took that first timid step. The admission/waiting room was my biggest fear, the very place my world fell apart. 
As I scratched initials on forms, J.R. Martinez, an actor and wounded vet, discussed the burns he sustained in Iraq on a nearby flat screen.
God arranged for me to hear this man's wise words; I know it! It was no coincidence that my surgery had been bumped up twice that morning, clearly rescheduled so I would catch his brief interview on a t.v. show I never watch.
This courageous soldier shared three things in the short time I sat in that room:
"You are not alone." 
'I still make a choice every single day to wake up and say 'I'm going to go out there and make the most of it.'
'It took me about four and a half years to fully accept my injury.'
I heard:
You are not alone; God is holding on tight!
You must keep making a choice every single day to not only do the hard things, but to choose joy.
It's going to take a lot of time; be kind to yourself.
Yesterday's surgery on my leg was minor; God's reminder for my heart...profound.