A Spring of Joy

Honestly, I always hesitate to write these posts. Part of it is that I’m tired of writing about it, but the other part of it is that I wonder if you’re tired of reading about it. That’s my insecurity speaking. Then I hear the voice of my friend, Monica, who reminds me that I write for me, not for others. That’s part of the healing process. My writing. The catharsis of putting into words all that I am going through, learning, seeing. Reminders of ways He is working in my life, in my pain, in my world… all which are an offering to Him.

Another part of it is that you are asking. I am getting emails from people I’ve never met and friends who live miles away who are asking me how I’m doing, how my Asher is, where we are in the process. And I am blown away by this bloggy community, this internet presence that has blessed me so much. So before I write, I have to say…

Thank you. Y’all care. That is part of the healing, too.

So, with no further adieu, I give you another update… tedious for some, perhaps (but I reckon you can choose to read it or not). And with bullet points… or numbers, which is probably tedious for some of you, too, but it helps me organize my thoughts.

1. Asher. We did get his blood work back, and the good news is it’s all negative, which means nothing is showing up in his blood work. The bad news is that conditions like lupus and rheumatoid arthritis often don’t show up in blood work for years. So we are monitoring him for a few more months, and I’m tracking his fevers, aches, joint stiffness, etc. Then if it’s still acting up, we’ll be heading over the mountain to the University Hospital to see the pediatric rheumatologist. It’s all so very overwhelming right now, but he is a trooper. He amazes me with his young faith.

2. BRCA. Two weeks ago I was tested for the BRCA1 and BRCA2 gene for breast cancer to see if it’s genetic. Y’all I cannot tell you the hours I have agonized over whether or not I could pass this on to my children. Friday just before I was discharged from the hospital, my cell phone rang and I picked it up to hear the news.

It is NOT genetic! I do NOT carry the gene! And I sat on my bed and bawled, because the relief that washed over me was numbing. To know that I will not pass this monster on to my children. All I could do was whisper, “Thank you” over and over and over to Jesus. Will you whisper… or shout… it to Him, too?

3. Me. I am recovering slowly from my hospital visit, but I am recovering. The lymphedema in my arm is diminishing which makes things considerably less painful. The antibiotics I am on are making me very nauseated, so I’m on meds to combat that. The only problem is the meds make me sleepy, so I only take them if I have help with the children or it’s bedtime. I am also having dizzy spells and momentary blackouts if I’m up and around very much. All just part of recovering. Honestly, y’all, I’m really tired of recovering and I want to be recovered.

4. Mom. She deserves a whole post, and that’s coming, I’m sure. But my mom is amazing. She has enough on her plate without having all my mess. But she enters into my mess without complaining and helps me out almost every day. She is amazing. Absolutely amazing. I am beyond thankful for her.

5. Redeemer. I know I’ve said it before, so you can skip this part if you’re tired of hearing about how amazing our kids’ school is, but we are so blessed. The other parents and staff from the school have stepped up… providing meals AGAIN for us, carpooling so I don’t have to go out and drive right now, cleaning my house, taking my boys home for play dates, teachers just loving on our boys who can still be so very fragile. I even have one mom who is making sandwiches for Asher’s lunch so I don’t have to because of my nausea.

The thing is… they just do it. They step up and take over and I don’t even have to ask. This is an amazing blessing, because, honestly, y’all, when I am asked, “What do you need?” My brain doesn’t work.. I am so overwhelmed, that I don’t know how to answer. They don’t just leave me with a “Call me if you need anything.” They call me and offer to do things for which I never would have thought to ask. I’m learning from them what ministry really looks like. And I’m learning how to say, “Yes,” which is very humbling.

6. Him. I have felt very keenly my weakness, my sinfulness, my messy faith. And God continues to give me glimpses of Himself in all of this. I listen to sermons online and I hear truth that pierces my heart and oils my spiritual armor. I read the Word and pray, and although I feel distant, I keep reading and keep praying, because He will never fail to show Himself. But I am struggling.

And I am preaching to myself. If it never ends, do I believe He’s still sovereign? Jesus didn’t shed His blood for my happiness. He shed His blood to give me joy (among many other things). Those are two very different things. Reality is that no one is exempt from pain in this life. It looks different for all of us, but it’s there. Truth is, I am free from sin’s curse, even if I am never free from physical, emotional, mental pain.

“And as He stands in victory, sin’s curse has lost its grip on me.” (~Getty & Townend)

That’s the grip I’m glad is gone. The grip of pain might still be there; the effects of sin. But the victory has been won. If it is neverending in this life; it won’t be neverending in the next. It won’t be there at all.

That is JOY.