A Spring of Joy

Progression.

I hear the word and immediately feel numb. My brain fogs and my vision clouds with unshed tears. I shake my head to try and clear my mind so I can comprehend what my doctor is saying.

She shows me my scan. See, this spot here and then another one here and here. She has a plan in place and talks us through what it will look like and what she believes will be the best option. She is hopeful. I know this by her words and her kind smile. Brian’s grip on my hand tightens.

We walk out of the cancer center together, my arm nestled into his. It’s how we’ve always walked. I talk through all she said in the car, making sure I’ve understood it all. I do.

At home we curl into each other, and I feel the muscles of his arms encircle me, his breath on my cheek. A quiet settles over us. And then whispered, “How are you?” to each other. We are okay. We are sad.

Sad. It seems like too small of a word to describe all the feelings, but our sad is just so big

There are three new spots in the pleural lining of my right lung. One is near the spine and one is near a rib. Mercifully, my bones have been spared and she is hopeful we’ve caught it early enough to keep it from spreading to the bones there. I will start my new regimen next Thursday and will go for infusions every two weeks. She says this chemo is well tolerated. It will cause fatigue and hair thinning/loss (sigh.. y’all, I just don’t want to lose my hair again). She has patients who have been on this chemotherapy for years. We are hopeful.

Last night, twelve high school girls and my dear co-leader curled up together in my den for Bible study. It is a delight having those girls in my home with their laughter and chattering and stories of life. But it is also a delight to hear their hearts and to dig deep into the Word together. Last night we studied our God who never changes. Oh, how I needed this… that He who loved me before time loves me still and His love is unchanging. His mercies and steadfastness and faithfulness and promises never change. He is the rock on which we stand when the storms rage all around us.

And as I taste once again the bitterness of my mortality, it deepens the longing for the beautiful hope of my immortality. We are clinging. We are asking God for many more years here. We have not lost our hope.

Thank y’all for your faithful prayers for us these long years. We know we are loved. By Him. By you.