It Was Only God

There has never been a time in my life when I have been more certain that God exists than I am right now.

I’ve always believed. I’ve had moments throughout my life when I knew there was no explanation other than Him. Moments when doors opened that shouldn’t have, when protection showed up unexpectedly, or when peace arrived in situations that should have broken me. But this season has reminded me in a way I can’t ignore that God is always present, even in the moments that scare us the most.

Two weeks ago, I walked into my bathroom and noticed a few drops of blood. At first, I couldn’t figure out where they were coming from. As I looked closer, I realized they were coming from my right breast. Panic immediately set in.

I called my husband into the bathroom, and together we tried to figure out what was happening. The bleeding stopped almost as quickly as it started, and we never saw it happen again. Still, I knew something wasn’t right.

The next morning, I called my doctor’s office so early that the answering service picked up. After explaining what had happened, the nurse scheduled me to come in first thing Monday morning.

My OB/GYN, who also delivered my daughter, is one of those doctors everyone hopes to find. She listens. She cares. She treats me like a person, not a chart.

After a thorough clinical breast exam, she told me everything felt normal. She couldn’t feel any lumps or abnormalities. Still, she looked at me and said, “Everything feels normal, but I’m sending you for a diagnostic mammogram and ultrasound as soon as possible. This could be nothing, but we don’t want to miss anything.”

A week later, I found myself at the breast center.

Everyone there was incredible. Honestly, it felt more like a spa than a medical facility. Again, I was asked if I had a family history of breast cancer.

“No,” I replied.

The mammogram itself wasn’t painful, although the nipple discharge appeared again during the procedure. Then came the ultrasound.

As the technician continued scanning, I began to sense something was different. She spent a long time focused on one specific area and captured image after image. When she finished, the radiologist came in to review the results with me.

There it was.

A small mass in my right breast, a little over a centimeter in size.

The radiologist spoke with a calm, reassuring voice that I desperately needed in that moment. She explained that it could be benign, but that more testing was necessary. Within days, I was scheduled for a biopsy.

By the time I arrived at the surgeon’s office, I wasn’t sure what to expect. What I found was another incredible team.

The surgeon had me laughing so hard before the procedure that I nearly forgot why I was there. She was warm, straightforward, knowledgeable, and compassionate all at once. During the biopsy, she explained every step of the process while I watched the images on the screen.

At one point, she shared something that has stayed with me.

She told me that because of where the mass was located, it likely would not have been found through a physical exam. It was too deep to feel.

Then she said, “Luckily, you had the nipple discharge. If you hadn’t, we probably wouldn’t have found this for another couple of years.”

That statement hit me hard.

I have no family history of breast cancer.

I have no lump that can be felt.

I’m not even at the age when routine screening mammograms are recommended.

Had it not been for those few drops of blood, I may not have known anything was wrong until much later.

That’s why I keep saying it was only God.

I know everyone has their own beliefs, and I respect that. But for me, there is no other explanation. Those few drops of blood may have looked like a frightening inconvenience, but they could very well have been a blessing. A warning. A gift.

I don’t know what my biopsy results will say yet. By the time you read this, I may still be waiting.

What I do know is this: whatever happens next, God is already there.

That doesn’t mean I’m never scared.

I’ve had moments of anxiety. Moments of frustration. Moments where I’ve thought, “Really? One more thing?”

But every time I start to spiral, I remind myself of all the things that are going right.

I have an incredible husband who has stood beside me every step of the way.

I have a mother who has been my constant support.

I have friends who check on me, pray for me, and remind me that I am not walking through this alone.

And I have faith.

Faith that whatever the outcome, God has me.

As I wait for answers, I want to leave you with this:

Advocate for yourself.

Find doctors who listen.

Find providers who treat you with compassion and respect.

Pay attention to your body.

Don’t dismiss something simply because it seems small or unusual.

You know your body better than anyone else.

Build relationships with your healthcare providers. Ask questions. Seek second opinions when necessary. Be an active participant in your own healthcare journey.

Most importantly, don’t ignore the things that feel off.

Sometimes the smallest signs can make the biggest difference.

When I have my results and feel ready to share more, I’ll provide an update.

Until then, I welcome your prayers, positive thoughts, and encouragement. If I don’t answer every phone call, please understand that retelling the story repeatedly can be emotionally exhausting.

For now, I’m choosing faith over fear.

And I’m trusting that the same God who allowed me to see those few drops of blood is the same God who will walk with me through whatever comes next.