I'm looking at a beautiful pink rose, and enjoying its delicate perfection and the pleasure of its fragrance. It's even more precious to me, because it was a gift -- a gift from a woman who had to "gut out" 60 miles of walking, in three days. Who had to spend two cold nights in a sleeping bag on the ground under a tent, without a bath or a shower, eating off paper plates. And she had to pay at least $2,000 for the privilege!

This woman, whose name I may never know, was one of more than 2,500 women (and men) who covered the distance from Del Mar to the Convention Center on foot to raise money to find a cure for breast cancer. It was last weekend's Susan G. Komen 3-Day Walk event. Jenny and I attended the closing ceremonies, and as we watched the moving sight before us, one of the walkers waved me over and presented me with her flower. Each of the walkers had been given a pink rose from Proflowers.com -- something beautiful and perfect and delicate to commemorate their Herculean effort. And she chose to share that reward with me, merely because of her sympathy for what I -- and every other breast cancer survivor -- had been through. I think in some way, that's what I represented to her. I can't begin to tell you what she and every other walker meant to me.

October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month, but you would have to live in a cave not to know that. Everywhere you look, there are reminders. In my case, the reminders are evident every time I look down at my scars, or walk past my doctor's Infusion Room. But my resolve to do what I can to help find a cure is re-steeled every time I talk to the two men who found their own breast cancer as a result of seeing what I'd been through.

Both are middle-aged, married and fathers. One's a teacher, the other's an engineer. One's in the North County, the other's in the South County. Both are undergoing aggressive treatment with chemotherapy. Both are in need of your prayers. One man may have cancer in another organ. The other is having to deal with losing his job while undergoing the treatments. But both have tremendous support at home, the care of good doctors, and all the support I can give them.

I'm also in touch with a woman whose battle with breast cancer is just beginning, and now she has to deal with the impending loss of a beloved pet who's been her companion for years. What can you say to someone whose suffering is compounded with more suffering?

I think about what happened to the Nation of Israel when they were held slaves in Egypt for hundreds of years. When the Lord appeared to Moses in the burning bush (Ex. 3:7) He said, "I have seen the misery of my people, I have heard them crying out and I am concerned about their suffering. So I have come to rescue them." It is when I'm at my lowest that God sees fit to rescue me -- if I just have the faith to do what He says.

Former Padre pitcher Dave Dravecky lost his pitching arm and his career to cancer, and he and his wife Jan have created something to help others of us who think God has given more than we can bear. It's called OutreachOfHope.org. I'll have more on it in my next journal entry.

Meantime, don't forget Denim Day this Friday. If your company is signed up, the Komen Foundation gets $5 for every employee who wears jeans to work on Friday. More of Breast Cancer Awareness Month.

God bless,
Bill