Last fall our women’s Bible study read through Mark. I was only sporadically present due to a lot of sickness in our family. But I would read and study when I could; I read about Jesus healing the paralytic, making the blind man see, casting out all those demons into all the pigs, and even raising a little girl from the dead.
So it turns out that a year is not long enough to put a neat ribbon around our grief, or what life is like without Kara in our daily mix, or how Jesus has made us different because she was our friend. Random is kind of my modus operandi, though. So I appreciate the chance to share some random—like, really random—thoughts.
Last week, my dear friend Marcia, who is in the midst of her own Stage IV breast cancer journey, talked about her lion’s den on social media. Marcia is an accomplished artist and a poetic wordsmith. She writes,
Cancer and chemo and utter fatigue are dark dens of suffering with hungry lions of despair wanting my heart. I would be so depressed and discouraged, but for God's graces and presence…So many kindnesses from so many who have climbed in that den with me have mattered. And they’ve helped keep the nasty lions’ mouths shut. And protected my heart.
I was undone.
I am a talker.
I love conversations.
Most of my relationships are built around conversations.
My kitchen has been filled with conversations over the years.
My relationship with Kara began in my kitchen over deep conversations and giggles.
When I walked with her during her cancer journey, there were never enough hours in the day for all our words.
This year has been a mix of terrible sadness and obvious grace. I miss our girl. I would guess everyone reading this does. There is a constant feeling of someone missing. When we eat dinner with the Tippetts, cheer on the kids at sports, listen to their school reports, or when one of her kid’s arms are wrapped around my neck, I choke back tears as I remember what is missing. Ann Voskamp says, Losses do that. One life-loss can infect the whole of a life. Like a rash that wears through our days, our sight becomes peppered with black voids. Now everywhere we look, we only see all that isn’t: holes, lack, deficiency. And I see voids a lot this year.
