A Spring of Joy

Bella-girl knocks secret codes to me through her wall.

Our beds touch the same wall, and last night as she climbed in bed, she knocked her “I love you” to me, and I knocked back. We knocked until she fell asleep, and every now and then I heard a stifled giggle echo down the hallway to my door.

Today is my fifth day of sequestering. They extended it two days after my scan because there was enough residual radioactive material in my body that they wanted me to stay away from the kiddos through the weekend. It broke my heart. It broke their’s more. But the beautiful weather allowed for us all to be together outside yesterday and we worked and raked and talked, all the while they kept their “safe” distance from mommy.

Does anyone else find that weird? That I am “dangerous” to my children? (*insert heavy sigh here*)

I guess it just shows how fallen this world is. This is not how God created it to be.

And as I ponder the brokenness of our world, of my life, there are so many glimpses of His glory through it all. Moments where I smile quietly and breath a whispered, “Yes, God. This is you. Thank you.”

May I share a few with you?

The injections were practically painless. If you know anything about my fear of needles, then you know that is a miracle in and of itself.

The side effects from the injections were rough for a couple days, but by Thursday, I felt “normal” from those again.

While I had to deal with minor frustrations and almost went into an anxiety attack in the blood lab over my blood work, God worked out every detail there and all went well. (That’s huge for me, because I have horrible experiences with this particular hospital’s blood lab every time I go there.)

My children, while obviously having a hard time with this, seem to be handling our separation well. I love how they come sit at my door and chat with me, and Asher and I especially have had some long conversations about life and books and what he wants to do and be in life. I’m still refusing to blink, because he is becoming such a man.

Because we chose this injection route for the test, I am feeling much better than I do when I go the depletion route. That is a blessing and a curse, because I want to be out and about around my home doing things, not holing myself up in this room. My mom would come sit with me and talk which is always nice, and I’ve had many moments of just sitting and talking with Daddy and sharing our hearts. At night when the kids are in bed, I come downstairs and sit with Bri and my parents. This loneliness of not being able to be with the children is hard. Very, very hard.

On a brighter note, I cleaned my closet.

We are blessed again with meals. Dear Sarah set them up for me, and I am always amazed at how little time it takes for those slots fill up, and once again it was the boys’ school that filled it so quickly. We are so very, very blessed.

Glimpse after glimpse after glimpse of Him.

Sometimes it’s more than glimpses, it’s full-on “shout it out Hallelujahs”. Moments that make me want to dance and sing and cry and laugh all at the same time (which I usually end up doing).

May I share a few with you?

My friend, Kim, made it through surgery and while recovery is hard and painful, she is doing well. But I also know she faces a battle in every sense of the word.

Sweet Danica is walking! Her brain surgery is nothing short of miraculous, and her fusion is healing nicely. But there is so far to go, and my friends also face a battle in every sense of the word.

Another friend received all ALL CLEAR on her scan because they saw a spot on her chest and were concerned about recurrence for her breast cancer. But it was scar tissue. Not cancer. Those are huge words.

I received news this week that my exam last week showed no breast cancer recurrence. NONE. The further I get from my breast cancer, the more I wonder if the news will impact me any less, but y’all, having tasted the bitter gall of cancer’s drink, I can assure you, it is no less miraculous to me today to hear ALL CLEAR than it was 3 years ago.

What I’ve realized though, along the way, is that whether it’s one of those glimpses or whether it’s full-on “shout it out Hallelujahs”, they both beautifully reveal God for Who He is and neither is better than the other.

These small glimpses and great Hallelujahs.

Aren’t they one and the same? These small glimpses are worthy of a great Hallelujah, because they show HIM. Sometimes it’s a whisper and sometimes it’s a scream, but they all say the same, “How great is our God!”

And isn’t that what I want in my life? To show Him? To see Him? In everything.

When I read back over this, it seems a bit jumpy and disjointed, kind of stream of consciousness flowing through my fingertips. But I’m okay with that, because it’s where I am. Seeing Him, but feeling very disjointed and tired and weak in it all.

I am praying you can see Him, too, whoever you are reading this… that He will use me in my weakness to show glimpses of Himself and great Hallelujahs for Who He is.

(We will hear early this coming week on the outcome of my thyroid scan. Please keep praying for an ALL CLEAR. Thank you. I truly am humbled by your love for my family and me.