Numbering Days, Week 11

On Wednesday we went for treatment and my sweet little guy really wanted to join us. Even though it meant he would miss MidWeek, he was adamant. He hasn't said but I think he just likes to be where he can keep an eye on me. It's nice to have him along and it's also heartbreaking that this is his reality.

As I was recovering from treatment, I developed a fever/cold thing. It wasn't helpful to my morale, but thankfully after several days it was all but gone.

Over two days, I had two different conversations with friends about how joy and grief are so often held together. Its something I think about often. They are not opposites but both part of the story. There is grief in being at the cancer center, there is grief that I have a 13 year-old who I may not see into adulthood. There is such joy that we have today together and have had these past years. There is joy in the man he is becoming and that he gets to witness Shaun loving me and caring for me in such sacrificial ways. Joy and grief. Both are true.

“Joy comes not from what you thought you’d have, 

but from appreciation of what you get to have.” 

– Chrystal Hurst

You don't have to have cancer to feel like your life isn't what you thought it would be. We live in a broken world and there are a hundred and one ways for it to go "wrong". But even in the grieving of what will never be, or what we wish could be, there can still be joy. In my experience it doesn't just land in my lap, instead it's making a choice to be thankful, to see the good, to recognize the blessing. It's deciding to think on things that are good, true, pure and lovely and then continually refocusing my attention back there.

We go Monday for treatment number six. Originally, we thought it would be six. Period. The end. In a recent conversation with the doctor however, it seems like the is not six and done, but rather six and scan and then continue. 

And so, I will just do today and then tomorrow I will just do tomorrow. And I will continue to trust and hope and believe.

Who can melt the hardest heart

And speak life into my soul

Who can spin the world around

And hold me ever close

Who can search the depths of me

And love me to core

Who controls the world I see

And walks me through it all

It's more than I can even conceive of...the same God who spoke the world into existence and keeps it spinning, also knows my name. He sees who I really am and still loves me. He speaks to my heart in a deeply personal way and walks me through it all.

We are wonderfully cared for and loved and held. What a gift to have a tireless, faithful community. Thank you for praying, for thinking of us, for reminding us we are not alone.