God – Page 5 – beatingcowdens

“It’s not fair!”

Published on August 27, 2012August 27, 2012 by beatingcowdens1 Comment

“It’s NOT fair Daddy!” Came the screech from the basement. I held my breath.

“You can’t do that Daddy! It’s NOT fair!”

When I heard my husband return the challenge with an “Oh yeah? Watch this!” I knew all was well. The giggling that followed sealed the deal.

I couldn’t help but find it a bit ironic that of all the things that have gone on in her life, she chooses a helicopter game in the basement with her Dad, to shout the words,”IT’S NOT FAIR!”

She didn’t use those words once, all summer, when we spent what I equate to an OBSCENE amount of hours in doctor’s offices and waiting rooms. She didn’t utter those words as she was poked and prodded and asked the same questions over and over. “They never find the answers anyway, Mommy.”

She didn’t tell me it wasn’t fair, when instead of planning playdates, or camp experiences we were trekking back and forth to Manhattan, for her, or for me. She simply wiggled in the play time when there was room.

This morning, when I sprung on her the idea that she needed bloodwork, after the bank, and before the orthodontist, she could have EASILY told me. “It’s not fair!” And I would have understood. I know very few people who have given up more blood than she has. And when the lab was full, and we had to come back later, so she could think about it all day, she definitely could have told me, “It’s not fair!” But she didn’t.

This morning when we learned that her braces are imminent, and that she is going to need to contend with them in addition to her new grade and ever changing body – I expected a yell. Nope. “Won’t it be great to have them off before most of my friends even get theirs on?”

So as I scheduled one more MRI this week. This one for her, to make sure the pituitary is its proper size with no extra features… I thought it would be a big foot stamping, “It’s not fair!” Nothing. Just the typical, “Can you stay, and will I need a needle?” Followed by, “I hope I can watch a movie this time because I don’t like having my head done.” How disturbing that this will be her third brain MRI.

This has been one hell of a summer, following one seriously wild spring. I have lost count of the appointments, and it is probably better. They aren’t going anywhere and we will continue to have to roll with it. As the last week of summer vacation comes to a close, and I lament the lack of relaxation, the cleaning that never happened, the day trips that never came to pass, I want to shout, “IT”S NOT FAIR!”

But then I look at my 9 year old. Wise beyond her years. Content to live in this house where she is so loved and appreciated. We have had many talks about the suffering of others through the years, and especially this year. She knows she is not alone in having a tough path to travel. She also knows it could be worse.

Maybe that contributes to the poise and grace under pressure. Maybe that is why she is so insanely mature. Or maybe, in the midst of the chaos that is Cowden’s Syndrome, we – her father and I – are just the luckiest parents in the world.

Life's not fair — But God is good – all the time!

“I plan, God laughs.”

Published on August 24, 2012 by beatingcowdens1 Comment

My Mom says this… a lot. And she is usually right. I am a planner by nature. Mom, although sometimes reluctant to admit it, is a planner too. The difference is that the wisdom of her years have helped her tone down the level of planning so it is a bit less obvious, and she has also – wisely- learned to keep many of the plans she does make – to herself.

I like to organize everything, and quite simply put – Cowden’s Syndrome is chaos. At least right now.

I mean eventually maybe it will fall into a neat little schedule of screenings, and routine visits, but right now – not so much. If you saw the legal size yellow pad on my desk you would chuckle. I have appointments planned until February of 2013. And, at first glance to list doesn’t look too bad. I was proud. I got to these appointments early. They are all routine. They will all happen after school or on vacation days. My terms. But then we get to the unscheduled ones… and the follow ups… and the new visits. That’s when things start getting hairy.

I called the oncologist‘s office today to get the results of my MRI. The oncologist is away until Tuesday, but a very kind nurse called me back in about an hour. She said, “Everything is benign.” I wasn’t sure to be relived, or panicked. What “everything?” So she started with telling me my liver is just fine. (Well thank goodness, because I hadn’t even THOUGHT to worry about my liver.) She then proceeded to tell me there was a “small cyst” on my kidney, but that was probably no big deal. (And probably not a worry unless you live in a subgroup of people that have a 33% lifetime incidence of renal cell carcinoma.) She continued by telling me my spleen was “a bit more involved.” Hmmm… never have those words started a positive conversation.

The last two times I have had abdominal sonograms, both have very matter of factly stated that there is one 3.5 cm harmatoma on my spleen. Ok, I had decided all by myself… if it stays 3.5 cm and behaves, we will just leave it there.

Well, apparently there is a “vascular lesion” that is a “significant” size, and “several” small harmatomas on the spleen.

So I said, “what does this all mean?” That is when she said we would have to wait until the oncologist returned to determine the necessary next steps.

“Can I have a copy of the report?”

“I would rather not send it to you until you speak to the doctor. I just wanted to reassure you there were no malignancies. She may want you to come in.”

Which is where I did laugh out loud. Come in – to hear a summary of what I was just told? No thanks. Just tell me what I need to do next and I will get it done.

I looked at my nice yellow pad, where September previously had no appointments, and I see the colonoscopy written in for the 18th.

I have to say I was pretty sure 2 major surgeries for me, meant I was done for the year. There goes that planning again. Maybe I will keep my spleen and its harmatomas forever. Maybe they will make me have it out. Truth is I have no idea. And I can’t plan for it at all.

School starts in a week or so. My life apparently doesn’t always jive with the school calendar. I will have to roll with it.

More importantly, Pop’s birthday is tomorrow. He is 93, and a true inspiration. My family will gather at my house to celebrate him. I couldn’t be more excited.

all-about-me — I really think I am OK with this concept, but we all need a reminder sometimes!

I will get my results Tuesday, and life will go on. It will all work itself out, as it has for… well forever. I will try to keep the planning in check. I really do try.

The only thing I am planning tonight is how many chairs I need for Pop’s birthday celebration!

“Tell Me All Your Thoughts on God…”

Published on August 5, 2012 by beatingcowdens4 Comments

lutheran church, sydney (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

The line rings in my head. The internet gives me the artist’s name as “Dishwalla.” The song doesn’t make a whole lot of sense to me, but then again the whole religion thing can be very confusing.

I have a belief in God, and faith that there is a higher power running the show here. In many ways that confidence keeps me sane. I mean, what would be the purpose of it all?

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t believe that we are selected to suffer. Not with cancer, tumors, genetic disorders, or anything of the sort. I do however believe that God can give purpose and meaning to our lives. If we seek it, we get confidence to endure the tough times, and purpose. A “share your experiences,” be helpful in every way you can, “pay it forward” kind of purpose.

What I haven’t sorted out, even after all these years, is well, what are the rules?

I mean, I was raised Lutheran. I was baptized, confirmed, married, and baptized my daughter in the same church. I spent my youth in that church. Survived high school with close friends there, and always enjoyed the connection with the people. I believe in the theology I was raised with, and I love the people I worshipped with for so long. But I no longer believe in that church.

The minister has been there for almost 2 years. Long enough to know the people in the congregation he serves. And yet, I have gone through one of the most emotionally tumultuous years of my life and he has never extended a hand. We had a long talk about it. It yielded nothing. He doesn’t care. So, I haven’t been to worship there for months. I would be lying if I said it didn’t hurt me. It pains me deeply. But to me worship has to be about God, and it has to be led by people of God.

See, to me it doesn’t matter if you are catholic, Lutheran, or any other of the million religions out there. I believe for the most part we all serve the same God. What matters to me are the underlying values that go with being a person of faith.

Are you kind to others? Are you tolerant, and understanding of differences? Do you judge others, or do you leave the judging to God? Do you extend a hand to a friend in need? Do you lend an ear when someone needs to talk? Do you hug your loved ones? Do you value, truly value the gifts of your family, friends, and those you are yet to meet?

Those are the questions I ask myself as I interact with people each day. And I ask those questions of ME, not them. It is my role to be there, to be a person of faith, to share my love for others. I don’t think it has as much to do with what building you walk into, as it does with how you live your life.

My brother-in-law is a Lutheran minister. And, while I have at times not always agreed with him on everything (who does?) he models what a Christian leader should be. He has been there for me, as I try to sort out the many thoughts in my head, and his words have provided me some clarity on some tough issues.

So, I know I guess, what I need. Now the question is where to find it? I made a promise when I had my daughter baptized that I would teach her. I do, but I would like so much to have a “home” base where she can be comfortable again. This is all so confusing to her, and yet even as I watch, her faith grows.

We tried another Lutheran church. I am just not feeling it. We are floating right now – seeking. But God has a plan. Of this I am sure.

You see I am confident that the same God who sent the angels to watch over my daughter and I. The one who blessed us with this Cowden’s Syndrome diagnosis (yes, you read “blessed” because as I see it, if she had not ever been diagnosed I would have died of the breast cancer that was hiding inside of me,) will stick by us, no matter where we travel.

I will continue to do my best to live the life of a woman of faith. I previously sharply defined myself as Lutheran. Now, maybe Christian is just a better term.

Forgive my ramblings, and I know this is a touchy topic. But if you are reading this – drop a comment. For lack of a better phrase,

“Tell Me All Your Thoughts on God…” I really want to hear them.

My Most Special Gift

Published on July 31, 2012July 31, 2012 by beatingcowdens1 Comment

Meg and dogs — Lucky, Meghan and Allie – My three girls

I am sitting on the couch, alone. Unable to sleep because of the pain in my knee.

My left knee and I have quite a history. Pretty much told it was “arthritis” as a young one, but that was never confirmed with lab work. A car accident in 1991 banged it up and started the swelling on and off. Arthroscopic surgery in 2000 to “clean” it out, gave me relief for a few years. Now it, along with the horrendous varicose veins that plague my legs, are temporarily at the bottom of the triage list.

There are other things that we need to do first. Plus, we can’t spend our WHOLE life at the doctor.

So, when I am in my worst pain. The kind that causes me to actually ice and elevate the leg, and I start to feel sorry for myself I look at my daughter’s face and find my perspective.

I will be 40 in a little over a year. My joints have had some time to wear and tear. She will be 9 in a week. She can’t run or ride a bike without pain in her knee. She deals with a mass almost 3cm x 1cm intertwined in the side of her knee.It is always there. Even on the “good days.” She lives with he reality of the AVM that will continue to exist- to grow, and then be worked on, likely to only grow again.

As I climb the ladder closer to “middle age” thinking in terms of pain and management for the “rest of my life” is less scary. Then there is my girl.

Soon to be 9 years old. Gluten, dairy, soy allergies. Pancreatic insufficiency,chronic herpes simplex infection, immune system deficiency, early puberty, Cowden’s syndrome, gall bladder removed, tonsils and adenoids removed (and now growing back), lipoma removed from her back, excess gum tissue removed from her mouth, precancerous thyroid nodules, and an AVM that even after 4 surgeries just won’t quit.

Yet she finds plenty of time to laugh and smile every single day, and precious little time is wasted complaining about anything – from the one who could complain all day.

Life isn’t fair, but I am going to sit here with my ice pack and reflect on the fact that God is good – all the time. And He gave me one heck of a sweet gift in my little girl.

I Am Blessed

Published on July 25, 2012 by beatingcowdens4 Comments

sharp stabbing pain — This cartoon is on the front of Meghan’s 4 inch medical binder. We have sometimes decided whether or not to keep a doctor by their reaction to this TRUTH!

It is late. I should be asleep. Morning comes fast and it is already after midnight. I just can’t seem to find a way to unwind.

I just had a long chat with a ‘new” friend. That helped a lot. But still here I am, trying to get these racing thoughts out of my head before I rest.

I saw a new oncologist today. The geneticist insisted I have one to follow me and one for Meghan. Except I was having a hard time finding one who didn’t think Cowden’s Syndrome was contagious. (Ok, perhaps I exaggerate, but they weren’t anxious to see me.)

So the geneticist sent out an Email on Tuesday to some of his friends. By Friday he had a name for me, (which means the genetecist is a KEEPER!) of a doctor IN network, and I met her today.

She is lovely. Of course, by already having the double mastectomy and the hysterectomy, I have made her job much easier. Now she gets to push me to the fun stuff. Next up- colonoscopy, and kidney MRI. So tomorrow I will call to get the GI appointment, while they work out the authorization for the MRI.

And all the while I will mourn a bit for the summer that wasn’t meant to be. This was more, a necessary doctor “catch up period.” I think by the end of August we will have at least 25 appointments done between us. And those are just the ones scheduled right now.

So, just when I start to get whiny and cranky about wanting some alone time to shop, or some fun time to swim, I remember. Were it not for the work of the angel on my shoulder, that pushed my “prohylactic blilateral mastectomy” in March, I would have likely been spending this summer prepping for cancer treatment.

So, we still get our trip to Disney, and there is always NEXT summer…

I spent the last hour preparing for Meghan’s oncologist visit on Friday. We haven’t seen this doctor for months. There have been a few things going on. So, I faxed her 32 pages of what we have been up to. She wanted to review it before the appointment.

I posted the cartoon because I had her binder out while I was preparing the fax. I laugh every time I read it because even after all these years it is still true. Even with our diagnosis of the PTEN mutation, and Cowden’s Syndrome, even with the precancerous thyroid nodules in Meghan, and her early puberty, she still has pain. Every day. And not one of these doctors that we take her to can tell us why.

I thank GOD every day for her stamina, and her spirit and her spunk. She is my love, my reality check, my perspective, my reason for being. I feel displaced right now, from my church, my comfort zone – but not from God. Even in the midst of all the chaos and uncertainty, I have a husband and a daughter that are beyond compare. God has us in the palm of His hand. We are blessed. And it WILL be OK!

The Mommy Monster is BACK!

Published on July 14, 2012July 14, 2012 by beatingcowdensLeave a comment

See… all it really takes is for the wrong person to tick me off, and the tears just dry right up!

We went out today. I told you I like Saturdays. Family days. No doctors. We went to visit my parents, and my grandparents. Saw my sister and my nephews. Then we spent the afternoon with friends at a birthday party for 3 year old twins. Good times. I was even able to eat a slice of pizza. I have had less than no appetite these last few months, so I was impressed. Feeling pretty good we got home around 6 – and took in the mail.

It was clearly a bill, but I wasn’t prepared for it to read $750, “previous balance.” Followed by an admonishment that we should pay immediately.

Again I repeat, “HAS EVERYONE LOST THEIR EFFIN MINDS?”

There are things we don’t do in this house. We never give money to phone solicitors, and we NEVER pay a non itemized bill – ever. Not even if it is for $7.50.

So I went down to my very thick “pending” file, to find that on November 29, 2010 (because this is for surgeries in December of 2009 and April of 2010) I sent them a LONG and detailed letter with all the EOBs attached, stating why I owe them nothing.

Really, stupid people who choose not to do their job, and make work for other people REALLY annoy me!

As I got all fired up for Monday’s battle, I noticed the answering machine was flashing.

Checking the message I saw it was a Massachusetts number. At 4:30 PM today, apparently Dr. K from Boston was in his office reviewing Meghan’s MRI.

I sent him the report yesterday after my visit in NYC. I also sent him a cover letter which essentially said, what Dr. R had concluded – that there was no mass in the knee, and that Meghan is still having some pain in the knee. I closed the brief cover letter by asking him to keep the report in her file should I need him at some point in the future. I made a point of telling him “If I do not hear from you I will assume you are in agreement with Dr. R’s findings.”

SURPRISE! More opinions weighing in from up north in Boston.

Dr. K’s message said the knee MRI “looked good” in terms of him not seeing blood on the joint. He said, ” I know what you wrote about Dr. R not seeing a mass. I just think if she has symptoms you should bring her to me for evaluation. Give it another few weeks and come up in the early fall.” (Sure…. no conflict with the school calendar there)

Relieved to hear the “old boys club” doesn’t supersede professional opinion in this case.

As for what happens next – who knows? Every day is a great adventure for sure. At least the Mommy Monster is back in full swing. Looking forward to fighting the good fight Monday morning.

I will probably call Dr. K – just to be clear on his thoughts too. It’s Saturday night. Monday’s agenda is set. And I have set my own internal countdown to Disney – the family vacation. Keeping my eye on the prize. God willing the doctors can’t find us there.

Headed to bed now. Tomorrow I will take my family to a cute little church a few miles away from the one I grew up in. The people I love aren’t there, but they are nice people too. And we will thank God for the blessings that have come from a week of ups and downs.

Cowden’s Syndrome is exhausting… but we can take it!

“The Waiting Place…”

Published on July 2, 2012 by beatingcowdens2 Comments

“…You can get so confused
that you’ll start in to race
down long wiggled roads at a break-necking pace
and grind on for miles across weirdish wild space,
headed, I fear, toward a most useless place.
The Waiting Place…

…for people just waiting.
Waiting for a train to go
or a bus to come, or a plane to go
or the mail to come, or the rain to go
or the phone to ring, or the snow to snow
or waiting around for a Yes or a No
or waiting for their hair to grow.
Everyone is just waiting.

Waiting for the fish to bite
or waiting for wind to fly a kite
or waiting around for Friday night
or waiting, perhaps, for their Uncle Jake
or a pot to boil, or a Better Break
or a string of pearls, or a pair of pants
or a wig with curls, or Another Chance.
Everyone is just waiting…” – Dr. Seuss

I ABSOLUTELY DESPISE THE WAITING PLACE!

There is more to the book. Lots more, but this is the part that keeps running through my mind, right now, at 1 AM, as I sit buried under a pile of papers. There is some combination of house bills, medical bills, medical errors that need to be corrected, and “this just has to wait because I can’t deal with it right now.”

I successfully organized a lot, and have a bag of shredding to prove it. This makes me happy. I like order. I strive on structure. I can sometimes be a little difficult to live with because in my house every toy, every item, has a “home.” Nothing is left laying around. I will confess to being a bit compulsive.

Why? People ask all the time. Why, with all you have been through, why after the breast cancer, the hysterectomy, Meghan’s surgeries, WHY does it matter if your floor is mopped and your counter is clean? All the time I hear – LET IT GO!

Well, the truth is – I can’t.

I need control. I need to control what I can control, which these past few months hasn’t been a whole heck of a lot. So, if having control over my clean floor and my clutter free desk makes me happy, people are going to have to go with that.

I have mentioned several times that my Mom always says, “You plan, God laughs.” Well we have joked that He has had a few good chuckles this year. While I feel INCREDIBLY blessed for the countless things that have gone well, sometimes the fact that Cowden’s Syndrome invaded our house and stripped me of the ability to plan, schedule, control, and order just about anything really gets under my skin.

After Meghan’s AVM surgery in February, we were told she was likely to need additional surgery in a few months. I did not sign her up for camp, WAITING. We had the MRI last Thursday. She spent 2 hours in the tube WAITING for them to take 5,000 images. I will call again tomorrow, but I will likely spend the week WAITING for the report, and the decision as the whether the next surgery is to happen now or later.

I signed her up for dance once a week, and swimming once a week, but we are WAITING on the MRI results to know if she will complete either of those classes.

Then, with the lack of a structured day she spends her time WAITING and hoping someone will come and swim with her. (That is when we are not WAITING at doctor’s appointments!) Her mother is WAITING for the lingering bleeding from the hysterectomy 7 weeks ago to stop before I head back into the pool.

I feel like these last few months have been full of WAITING. WAITING for surgery, WAITING to go home, WAITING for pathology, WAITING …

I have no control over any of this. I do believe GOD is in charge, and I am so comforted by that belief. It is my human frailty that keeps me searching for ownership and control where it is not mine to have.

I will WAIT. And I will do it as patiently as I can. Cowden’s Syndrome will be full of WAITING – forever it seems.

But, I will wait with a clean, organized house. I can not control this PTEN mutation, or the Cowden’s Syndrome that resulted, but I CAN certainly control the clean counters, and the dog fur… well, most of the time!

Towards the end of his book Dr. Seuss reminds me, and all of us…

“And will you succeed?
Yes! You will, indeed!
(98 and 3/4 percent guaranteed.)

KID, YOU’LL MOVE MOUNTAINS!” – Dr. Seuss

Father’s Day

Published on June 17, 2012June 17, 2012 by beatingcowdens2 Comments

Some days it’s not about Cowden’s Syndrome, or tumors, or doctor’s appointments. Some days life just is about life.

Father’s Day. A day to celebrate the fathers in our lives.

My husband is the best dad in the world. I mean it. And he is a pretty amazing husband too. There aren’t enough words to describe how lucky I am.

My Dad, tries his best. He and my mom divorced when I was 5. He has struggled with his own life through the years, but we have stayed in contact. He does the best he can.

My stepdad, married my mom 24 years ago. He inherited 2 bratty teenagers and has loved us as his own from the beginning. He has put us through college, paid for 2 weddings, fixed houses, and been there through it all.

My Pop, my mom’s Dad is 92. A WWII veteran, and a retired firefighter, he is amazing. He and Grandma still live on the second floor of their own house. We lived in their house for 15 years, and they became a second set of parents for us. Now they are Great Grandparents. They pick up my daughter on half days, and love spending time with her.

Today my heart is heavy though. My stepdad’s father is suffering. When his son married my mom 24 years ago, they had no grandchildren. They didn’t expect to start out inheriting two teenagers, but they did. And they handled it gracefully. Over time Grandpa came to love us in a very special way. He is especially attached to my daughter, who he calls “Sapphire.” He even made sure she had a special sapphire necklace to always remember her name. He has been brave his whole life and has fought cancer in more places than I can count. He has been in the hospital for a month now, and this is it. He is ready. He has had last rites. He has asked his boys to take care of their mom. He has told God he is ready to go. So we wait.

Today we remember the fathers, grandfathers, and great grandfathers that have touched our lives. We hug some, and we miss some. We acknowledge their impact on us.

And today in my house, we whisper constantly a prayer to God. Today it’s not about test results or surgeries. Today we ask that He be merciful. Grandpa is ready to rest…

Forgive my whining…

Published on June 3, 2012June 3, 2012 by beatingcowdens4 Comments

… but no one else seems to want to listen.

I am tired. Not just the physical tired, but the mental and emotional tired too.

My body is exhausted. Tomorrow I head back to work. Two major surgeries in 3 months. I think my incisions might be healed, but I am just so wiped out.

This recovery from my hysterectomy has been nothing short of obnoxious. The bleeding seems to have subsided, and the pain is gone. The restrictions are still in place, but the hardest part has been feeling so damn alone.

Days go by, the phone doesn’t ring. Not a text message to check in. Not expecting fanfare here, but a little love from my friends and family would be nice. Now there are a few. There are always a few… but even with them, I am lonely.

That loneliness hasn’t helped me feel better. No. Not one bit. Combine that with the fact that my dear husband, who truly tries his best, is in school 2 nights a week, and has worked more overtime in the last 2 weeks than he has since December. He can’t say no. Not in this economy. And he so rarely gets called. Timing sucks.

So it has been me, and my girl. She is awesome. Yesterday when we realized Daddy definitely wouldn’t be home, and we were dangerously low on food, she came to the grocery store with me. She didn’t let me lift a thing. She packed the cart, packed the bags, and carried them right into the house. She is awesome. But, she is tired too. She is always willing to take care of me. But she is 8. A friend would make for a much better weekend.

So, today I took her with me to a meeting at my church. Remember a few weeks ago when I said, “I don’t have a problem with God…it’s His fan club…?” Well that is getting more true by the day. I can actually say I was disgusted by my minister, and a large portion of my church. The church where I have grown up for the last 38 years. Things are tenuous between the pastor and myself, I would say largely due to his LACK of support, but he did not even greet my daughter or myself at the meeting. She is so astute. I am trying to channel her energy away from anger, but she feels the hurt in me.

I know there is a plan here. One larger than me, larger than any of us. I do believe strongly in God and His guiding hand. I have been blessed with several miracles, and witnessed others. I know He is here, but I do not often understand His plan.

So, in the midst of all the chaos, the drama, and the confusion, I seek solace in music. I remind myself that these people who are so painfully absent – don’t mean to be hurtful. Those full of drama are lacking the bigger picture. I never lose touch with the reality that I am not the only life struggling. There are so many others, so much worse off. But for now, for right this minute, it doesn’t change the fact that I am sad, scared, and lonely. No one really wants to hear it, because they can’t fix it. But its true.

I have always believed everyone does the best they can with what they have where they are. So, even amidst my sadness, I do not have anger. People have their reasons.

Tomorrow I will go back to work. I will smile brightly as if I was without a care in the world. Even if my bones ache from exhaustion, and my heart aches to share this pain with those I love, I will smile. I will get through the days, one at a time. And I will always have a song in my heart to help me.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=skQQRhhZZQg

“He Said”
(feat. Chris August)

So your life feels like it don’t make sense
And you think to yourself, ‘I’m a good person’
So why do these things keep happening?
Why you gotta deal with them?You may be knocked down now
but don’t forget what He said, He saidI won’t give you more, more then you can take
and I might let you bend, but I won’t let you break
and No-o-o-o-o, I’ll never ever let you go-o-o-o-o
Don’t you forget what He saidWho you are ain’t what your going through
So don’t let it get the best of you
Cause God knows everything you need,
so you ain’t gotta worryYou may be knocked down now
but just believe what He said, He said

I won’t give you more, more then you can take
and I might let you bend, but I won’t let you break
and No-o-o-o-o, I’ll never ever let you go-o-o-o-o
Don’t you forget what He said

Don’t fear when you go through the fire
Hang on when it’s down to the wire
Stand tall and remember what He said

I won’t give you more, more then you can take
and I might let you bend, but I won’t let you break…

I won’t give you more, more then you can take
and I might let you bend, but I won’t let you break
and No-o-o-o-o, I’ll never ever let you go-o-o-o-o
Don’t you forget what He said