Eucharisteo and a Five-Year Anniversary

This weekend, Facebook reminded me that it's been five years since my Warrior Princess ceremony, five years since I lost my hair to cancer and chemo. When I was first diagnosed with cancer, I knew I didn't want to go through chemo; when I found out my lymph nodes were clear, I thought for sure I would be able to dodge chemo. It didn't work out that way. My doctor presented the stats that said a woman in my same situation had a 50% chance of cancer returning if she did not do chemo and a 15% chance if she did. I chose chemo.

Five years later, I wonder if chemo really helped at all. My cancer still came back, still spread to my bones. Was I part of the 15 percent? Did chemo buy me these five years? Or did I subject my body to poison for four months for nothing? It's hard to think about. Chemo was awful.

But, as I look back through the photos from the Warrior Princess ceremony, I am reminded that beginning chemo and losing my hair was a pivotal time for me in my faith. God had prepared my heart to surrender to this using two books that were hugely influential on me: Beth Moore's Bible study Believing God and Ann Voskamp's book One Thousand Gifts.

Ann writes about Jesus giving thanks (eucharisteo is the Greek word for giving thanks) at the Last Supper, breaking the bread that represented His flesh being broken and giving thanks to God: "Eucharisteo is how Jesus, at the Last Supper, showed us how to transfigure all things - take the pain that is given, give thanks for it, and transform it into a joy that fulfills all emptiness. I have glimpsed it: This, the hard eucharisteo. The hard discipline to lean into the ugly and whisper thanks to transfigure it into beauty. The hard discipline to give thanks for all things at all times, because He is all good. The hard discipline to number the griefs as grace because as the surgeon would cut open my son's finger to heal him, so God chooses to cut into my ungrateful heart to make me whole." 

The thought of losing my hair had been really, really hard for me. I had never even dyed my hair before (except in that one Kool-Aid incident) because I was afraid I would lose its unique strawberry blonde color. Now it was all going to fall out. I was sad. I was afraid I'd be too embarrassed to leave the house. But God gave me faith to lean into this hard thing.

I decided to have a head shaving party, my Warrior Princess ceremony. The invitation said:

"This sacred ceremony will involve the application of war paint, which is used to indicate the fierce determination of the warrior; donning the battle-worthy superhero garb; and the shaving of the warrior princess' hair, a symbol of the stripping away of any hindrances to the warrior princess' offensive."

And my friends and family came to ready me for battle. To put on the war paint and the scripture and to take off the hair and the fear. I am still moved as a look through the album, rereading the verses and the passages from One Thousand Gifts. As I look back on this five-year anniversary, I thought it would be encouraging to share this ceremony with you, too. Please, click through the photos and read the verses we read in the ceremony. Let your heart be thankful.

Join me as I become a full-fledged warrior princess! This sacred ceremony will involve the application of war paint,...
Posted by Katherine Couvillon on Saturday, September 24, 2011