my seat on the airplane was next to a man who should have purchased 2 seats. so while hugging the window... between thoughts of emma a couple hours ahead of me... i began thinking about what awaited us at st. jude the next day.
it's been a few years since i've been to st. jude. thankfully, we have lots of good memories to counteract the not so good ones. so i didn't think much about what it might be like to return. but while we floated above the clouds, it hit me that in just a few hours i'd be facing the very thing that pushed me into the 'crash'.
the wisps of hair on the children's heads... the kids with one eye... the scars... the swollen cheeks... the wheel chairs... the masks... and on and on. each telling emma's story in new ways. each doing the best they can to cope with their own pain and fear of the future... desperate to write a different ending than what seemed likely.
yet... it wasn't these things or the fear of them that pushed me into my skepticism. even though each check-up threatened to throw us back into the middle of the story once again, G*D's grace & strength had been sufficient for us then... and i never doubted that it could sustain us for plenty of todays & tomorrows.
yet... back in late september when i had just finished my own treatment for the same cancer emma had fought... i found myself dazed. beth & emma were at st. jude getting her 6-month check-up. i was praying for her as usual... but mid-prayer i found myself resenting the fact that no matter how diligently i prayed, i could never be certain her cancer was gone. furthermore... i wrestled with how unfair it seemed that she had to watch her dad's cancer return and be vividly reminded that hers could do the same. beyond all that... i reacted to the thought that all of this might blur her vision of the very G*D whose love could make her whole... but whose love has so often appeared cloaked in pain in her few short years.
flying high above the clouds, i coached myself to remember that i'd come a long way since that day in september. yet, i wondered if my faith had grown strong enough to face the monster so directly.
the next morning... as i lie in bed waiting for the alarm to sound and shove us into the day filled with appointments... G*D and i had a little chat. basically i asked for strength... and for perspective.
there's something you witness while walking the halls of st. jude children's research hospital. it's the amazing ability for kids to find joy in the little things... in spite of the pain. it's their laughter. their smiles. their squeals of delight. their kindness.
true... sometimes you have to look hard for it. it might take a while to show up. but it's there nonetheless... waiting for the right moment to peak out. waiting for someone to invite it to surface. the staff are experts at it.
and when we get a glimpse of it... we peek through the blinds into a world that was supposed to be and will be one day.
so... even before we got the good report from emma's docs... it was a good day. the report just made it better.
i've got so much to learn. i'm taking this journey one step at a time. and G*D is a patient teacher.
Comments