A Spring of Joy

“No matter the season, the song is the same.”

My dad and I were discussing how hard the winter months will be this year. Taking down the Christmas decorations and sending kids back to college and increased cases with the pandemic. The cold, dark days feel a bit more dreary.

Then the call came in yesterday. A PET scan early next week, so they’re moving chemo and my appointment with my oncologist to later in the week so we can discuss results. The very next day, my Ash will return to college.

It feels like every year begins with us drinking from a fire hydrant of unknowns and tests and changes. I was a bit undone, to say the least.

All of the what ifs? swirled through my brain. What if my increased pain means…? What if my tumor markers rising means…? What if they can’t use my port and I have to suffer hours again of infernal hunting and pecking for veins? What if the news is bad, very bad, and then I have to send Ash away to process it on his own? The rabbit trails, y’all! I’m good at chasing them.

“Oh, I’m prone to wander…”

A sweet friend of mine, who is battling cancer and finishing her last round of chemo today, texted me. My dear friend, Bethy, called. Other friends responded to my fears with “I’d be a mess, too.”

And they asked. They asked how I’m doing. They shared their hearts for me. And they spoke comfort over me.

If there’s anything I’m learning in this crazy virus-laden and politically upheaved world, it’s that we must all listen to each other. And listen with understanding. My friends showed this to me yesterday. They didn’t try fix it, they didn’t preach how they thought I should respond… they listened, they understood, they loved, and then they spoke or prayed truth over me.

Truth that I am loved unrelentingly by my Father. Truth that He delights in me. That His mercy and goodness follow me (literally running after) all the days of my life.

“But You’re prone to chase.”

I’ve said it a lot this year. 2020 was extremely difficult for me physically, mentally, emotionally. Increased pain. Increased nausea. Drug-interactions that left me debilitated for months on end. Drug allergies (that scared my poor Bear half to death when he had to call Brian to come home quickly because Mom’s not okay). Increased depression. Increased anxiety and intense panic attacks that come on suddenly and with no apparent cause. I’ve fought to live well with my loves. And still through it all, I’ve battled myself over my inability to serve my family and friends the way I long to… how absent I have been from their lives. And how excruciatingly lonely it is to suffer.

And yet. My friends still came to me with care, with truth, with no judgment, with love.

And Jesus.

“Nothing in my hands I bring.”

Nothing to offer, and yet, He comes close and I call Him Friend.

Friend.

Y’all, have you ever thought about how intimate that is? That Jesus is our Friend?

I’ve had this song on repeat the past couple days, because I need to hear truth over and over and over again. The songs His people have sung through the ages. He doesn’t change even when my circumstances do.

“No matter the season.”

So if the winter months are dark and dreary. If the pandemic continues to rage. If my scans come back with progression. If there is no relief to my pain.

All the what ifs?

There is no what if? about Jesus.

His faithfulness remains the same. How great He is.

I’m clinging to that today. My soul may not be singing very loudly today, but He knows the words.