from an article originally posted December 2, 2014…
I am a rock star at packing the basket. I fill my basket with comforts: blanket, magazine, essential oil to help avoid the awful of my port being flushed, music, lotions. My nurse and I know this dance, we have danced this dance for a long time. She and I banter, we do what we have to do, and I’m callous about it all. Then as I turn to put my head down I see Jen is crying. She hates to see this dance. She hates to see me suffer. It’s good to be reminded of heart in the midst of doing the next thing. It’s good to see tenderness, brokenness when my own heart is callused to these ugly dance moves that I’m dancing to live. I simply do them. I have forgotten how sad they are. It was good to be reminded by the cherished and kept tears of my friend Jen.
So here are a few moments captured by my dear Jen. Here’s what this journey looks like from the prospective of one watching from the outside. One watching and breaking as the reality of my cancer is thrust in her face. But in the swallowing of my pain, my tears, we limp along to find grace. And it was present. Tell me where you see it?
We show up, we expect Jesus to meet us, and He does. We fight despair with truth, and we move into the next thing. We do this with a beautiful community that walks with us. Even when it’s hard. My pain has been growing, and pain has a motivating factor in chemo for me. It helps me want to show up and press on in treatment. Praying each day, as the fog clears, that I embrace each moment in grace. Jen, thank you for braving that room with me today.