How I’m Doing...Really

     I was asked the other day, “If one photo could sum up the year, which one would it be?” As I looked through photos, I found the last family photo we took before transplant. It was a great pic, but we are not the same people we were in that photo. I scrolled back to even earlier 2019 pics, and I felt like the further back I scrolled the more unrecognizable we became. Then I remembered a day back in May, or maybe even June. I passed a framed picture that sits on my dresser. It is a funny pic of my brother and me for National Sibling Day. I am smiling and joking in it. I remember feeling the same way I do today - I don’t know that woman. She’s gone. I grieved the woman in that photo. For months, in fact. I remember thinking, “No one has died! How can I be grieving?!” What I eventually realized was that though I hadn’t died, I could never go back to being that woman in the picture. Life as we knew it was gone. It had changed.
     As I wrestled with grief, fear, and faith, one of our dear friends who had battled cancer said something that challenged me to my core. He said, “If you can walk through this, and allow it, you will be a better person on the other side.” I couldn’t see it. I was afraid of who I might become. I didn’t want my kids to look back and think, “My mom was never the same after our brother got sick.” Every plan, every ounce of control, every routine was gone. My sense of invincibility, gone. My ignorance, gone. The person in the photo, gone. My son was sick, my family was being affected, my focus was now channeled into one lane, and my plans, my dreams, were spiraling. How could this make me a better person? Sickness and disease are a result of living in a world affected by sin. It didn’t seem fair that this sinful state could take the life of my child.
     Then it came. The calm still voice that can quiet the fiercest of storms. “I understand. I know how you feel. Sin DID take the life of my child.” This truth pierced my heart. It didn’t bring guilt, or trump my grief. Conversely, it brought an overwhelming reminder of the love of God. The perfect love that he has for me, and the perfect love he has for my children. It brought peace, and in the months to come it drove out the spirit of fear time after time.

     These paragraphs written above cover only moments of the last year. They convey my weakest moments, my greatest fears, and my deepest hurts throughout this season. They have been brief, and I’m thankful for that. God has immediately met me in that place of fear and pain. He has shown me the love he not only has for me, but for my children. He has been faithful through the storm. He has been the strength in my weakness. He has opened my eyes and brought joy in what should have been a devastating trial. I’m not the same person I was. None of us are. Our family is forever changed. We can’t unsee the effects of disease. We can’t take back the days we were a part. We can’t go back. Our friend was right. If we allow it, if we embrace what God can do in such trials, we will become better people. I have held my child through chemo. My children have watched their brother deteriorate, and then be brought back. My husband has caught me as I buckled from the weight of motherhood. We have cried with other families and we have rejoiced with them as they walk similar roads. I have shared my faith more in the last year than ever before. We have grown closer as a family. We cry more and laugh more; we play more and reflect more, and we celebrate each day together because the reality is that we don’t know when that will change. The truth is, we aren’t promised tomorrow, and life’s too short to not live it well. We are still fighting the effects of disease. We are still searching for our new normal. We are still reaching for healing. But I will say this, what we have found is the faithfulness of God. We have found that letting go brings freedom. We have found strength in surrender. We have found joy amidst sorrow. We have found peace that is unshakable. We have found each other. We have found hope.
     So, how am I doing? Well, I am doing great. I have all six of my children under one roof. I have an amazing husband who sits next to me as we watch our kids play and laugh and learn what life is truly about. We have friends and family who have supported us and prayed us through the hardest thing we have ever had to walk through. And we have a God who loves us perfectly and completely. Do I still cry? Yes. Do I still get scared? Sometimes. The difference between me and that woman in the picture is that I can now rest in the evidence of God's faithfulness. I can rest knowing that whatever happens, in life or death, He loves us and will be there no matter what. I don't have to worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will take care of itself. And that, my friends, brings a smile to my face and hope for the future.

Until Next Time...