Seven years ago , I was discharged from Yale-New Haven hospital after spending a week there in horrible pain after a bilateral mastectomy.  When I got home from the hospital, I was a pale, bruised, scarred, sad, 99-pound girl, and I thought my life was over. As it turns out, my life, as I knew it, was over. But the new adventure of experiencing God himself — after all the blessings he’d given me were taken away — was just about to begin.  I wrote more about the story for Christianity Today.  You can read the piece here.