A Spring of Joy

“Heaven knows we need never be ashamed of our tears, for they are rain upon the blinding dust of earth, overlying our hard hearts. I was better after I had cried, than before–more sorry, more aware of my own ingratitude, more gentle.”
~Charles Dickens, Great Expectations

I often wonder how many tears this head and heart and body of mine can hold… or shed.

Friends.

We received very good news yesterday.

And I ask myself, “So why am I writing about tears?”

On Tuesday when I had my chemo appointment, they drew blood to check my tumor markers. These are an indicator my oncologist is watching to see if the chemo treatments are working. We waited three days and got the call yesterday morning.

My tumor markers have dropped significantly!

This is a very good sign that the chemo is doing what it is supposed to be doing. It also means they will wait a few more weeks before doing more scans.

I got off the phone and had a breakdown moment, tears and hugs with my friend and co-worker.

Oh, y’all.

Deep breaths.

This takes some of the drudge out of the drudgery of the week in, week out of chemo. Eight treatments in and I am dreading each new Monday, wondering how many Mondays of this I will endure.

This. Helps.

They will remain with the current course of action. They still can give me no prognosis. They just have to keep watching and testing. And we continue to pray and hope. Chemo will stay the same and look the same, and we still have no idea how long I will be doing chemo, but things are moving in the direction we want them to.

We are relieved. We are hopeful. We are thankful.

Yes.

Yesterday was a day of tears… of good tears–great, cleansing, healing tears. Of thankful tears overflowing in quiet gratitude. Of boisterous tears rejoicing with encouragement. Of intense tears filling my grief. Of lonely tears filling my emptiness. Of mother’s tears, aching over the struggle of my loves. Of fearful tears awash with the unknown. Of desperate tears, begging for an end to all this. Of willing tears, unclenching in surrender. Of trusting tears, hoping in the Anchor of my soul.

Yes.

I often wonder how many tears this head and heart and body of mine can hold… or shed.

But what I do know for sure is my loving God is collecting them all, holding them in His bottle. He knows each one. He’s written each one in His book. His heart is for me in each one. He loves me in each one.

And some of those tears?

They were tears with you yesterday (and days before)… and from you as you walk through this battle with us. We have so many, many unknowns, but one thing we do know–we are surrounded with live-giving community, and we are not alone.

Thank you.

You have wept with us as we have wept.

I know you will rejoice with us as we rejoice.

And I know you will pray for us as we continue to fight this exhausting battle.

“You have kept count of my tossings;
put my tears in your bottle.
Are they not in your book?”
Psalm 56:8