Yesterday we enjoyed the respite of our warm beds and
blankets a little longer. We hung out in
our pajamas till mid-afternoon. And, we
feasted on a big, homemade breakfast about the time we’d normally be arriving
home from church. We sipped our coffee.
We chewed, instead of inhaled, our food.
We spent time together in the same room for more than a few brief
minutes or the length of one television show.
It was nice. It was
peaceful. And, it was savored.
Once the plates were cleared and bellies were full, Todd and
I stood in the kitchen, held each other tightly and wept. Ten years have passed since we’ve shared a
similar embrace and those same painful tears.
“We should probably use today to prepare for what may
come. We know from experience, if we get
bad news, we’ll have to make some decisions quickly and things will move at a
rapid pace.
So, while we still have a bit of control, let’s get ourselves ready just in case”.
So, while we still have a bit of control, let’s get ourselves ready just in case”.
Todd agreed and suggested that we fill the boys in as well. Until that point we had been relatively quiet
about the whole thing. Neither of us want
to cause alarm, undue concern, or attention to ourselves. We know there’s a very real possibility of
what may come though. My mom shared yesterday
morning, with the ladies in the Sunday School class she and I attend, what she
knew of the situation. We knew with making
the information public we would likely receive more phone calls, texts or visitors
than normal, and we felt the boys should know why. There
is no easy or perfect way to tell your children this kind of news. I thought I would be able to get the words
out of my mouth with confidence and assurance.
Instead they clumsily tumbled out and the tears started up again. We did our best to explain and reassure. I may have cancer again.
We talked about CT scans and scopes, what may come, and what
may not. The boys were both quite young
the first time I had cancer.
My youngest,
Joseph, only 9 months old then, and my oldest, Jack, just three. I remember holding Joe in my arms and the
ache in my heart as I wondered if we would ever be given the opportunity to
truly know one another. And yet now, with
ten year old hands hugging my neck, he held me.
The moment didn’t pass without love from Jack as well. I am surely blessed with some wonderful boys. I love them and they love me. It’s good to be loved.
The rest of our day was filled tending to chores and duties
and later time together with a splurge on an amazing ice cream cake! This week, today in fact, is my 10 year "cancerversary". So, we celebrated. Ten years of cancer freedom. Ten years of time together. Ten years of memories made. Ten years of loving deeply and being loved. Then, as the day drew to a close, two
precious boys climbed in bed with us. None of us able to sleep. So, we held each other tightly and we
prayerfully surrendered to the Lord our lives and this circumstance we’re
facing. We know our world may change,
but we also know we serve a God who does not. No matter what, God. Is. Good.
Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever. - Hebrews 13:8 (NIV)
In a changing world, we trust our unchanging Lord. He is our rock. Our hope.
Our joy. Our salvation. I pray He is yours as well.
Our family would so appreciate your prayers as we prepare
our hearts and minds for news to come.
We have not received a cancer diagnosis yet, and of course, hope and
pray we do not. We trust in God’s
goodness and perfect plans for our lives though. So for now, we hold on tightly and we wait….