Those who hope in the Lord will be renewed with strength, and will soar like eagles
Isaiah 40:31
It struck me this morning as I came back from throwing a load of laundry in on floor 7 that the sign outside Cecilia's door reads "caution: Hazaradous Drugs In Use". My mind wandered back to the many years of cloth diapers, organic foods, chemical free cleaning products, breastfeeding and all things "crunchy". All things intended to create a clean living environment and a long life for my children and here we are a year into to filling her body with poison intended, also, to prolong her life.
We got a great view this time. The view helps. It overlooks the arb, the trees, the outside world. The view matters. As the sun rises above the trees and I finish my morning devotional time I feel a gratitude that can't be measured. For just a week shy of an entire year our family, community and the world at large has supported us in prayer, meals, love, monetarily, and in more ways than I even know. This cancer life has become routine for us in many ways. My kids have been forced to grow up a little faster, their lens is so different now than it was a year ago. Jesse and I have changed, struggled, leaned on each other, our friends, and mostly God and we are carried on and on and on. I have seen the darkness as fear and anxiety has threatened to overtake hope but always there's the light, the Light, the Light of the World.
As I continue to work through "The Way of the Cross" (as mentioned in previous posts) I came upon that dreadful time when the Blessed Virgin Mary sat at the foot of the cross. I read this line again and again as it was so relatable for a mother with a sick child: "there is nothing that she can do to alleviate His suffering. She is content to suffer with Him; His passion is hers." I cannot change this situation. Sometimes I see myself turning the chemo off, packing her up and getting her out of here. But if I did that she would suffer more in many ways (if not in the short term definitely in the long term). I can only sit here and bear a tiny portion of the weight with her. And then there are the children at home who are also suffering in different ways. The heavier load on the teens/young adults. The bedtimes without "mama" for the littles. Then there are thee ones who no longer live at home who carry burdens of their own. I can only try to enter in with them, sit with them, pray with and for them. I picture Mary at the foot of the cross broken hearted but clinging to the truth that she has known all her life. God will redeem it all. God will make a way.
I am headed off to toss my clothes in the dryer and for my morning walk. Cecilia will have continuous chemo until Saturday night and if all is well (please pray all is well) can come home later on Sunday. The week after that, really the first ten days after, tends to be up and down and involves plenty more hospital time (though usually outpatient thankfully). Our lives have been stripped down to mostly necessities only and we continue to come together as a family to love each other, support each other, and ensure that Cecilia is well cared for and feels so much love. Thank you all for your part in this.
The sun is nearly up over the trees now. The arb is calling me. Thank you for sharing our journey with us.
