Skip to main content

More Christ

This has been a week, and I do not say that lightly.  I have seen with my eyes and heard with my ears things that are gut wrenching and heart breaking. Ann Voskamp’s daily blog came into my email today and I sat in a parking lot and let the tears fall for a couple reasons, one being it was real and honest and she always makes me cry, two being that she took the words from my mouth. She starts off describing the woman from Parkland with the ashen forehead that is making her way through all of social media.  I have seen that woman’s picture and it breaks my heart.  She then goes through the first few days of Lent and its happenings, including a friend diagnosed with cancer, a friends who’s baby passed away overnight, and a mass shooting at a high school in Parkland, Florida. Dear, God.

“My shattered heart fuses with hers.  Where two or more are gathered in grief, never doubt that God was there first and He will be there long after the last have left. Lent isn’t only a season of subtraction; Lent too is a season of multiplication: more grace, more kindness, more courage, more Christ.”

On the first day of Lent, a friend’s baby went to be with Jesus way too soon, not even two weeks old and I felt my stomach sink for those parents.  The pain, the reality, the suffering, all too soon, all not fair.  On that same day, a mass shooting occurred at a high school and 17 innocent lives were taken, countless lives effected. On the second day of Lent, a dear friend’s family member got diagnosed with advanced cancer.  Do you see where I’m going with this? The closeness.  All while I take care of my 18 month old baby who has cancer, undergoing chemotherapy.  Is this fair? Is any of this bullshit fair?  How much heart break and gut punching can we take? When is enough actually enough? How do we keep moving forward? How do we trust in our God when the truth of this world is so ugly?

I went on a cruise with my best friend for 8 days before Sloane got diagnosed with cancer.  I remember every sunset, how far the sky stretched and it was really, really beautiful. Breathtaking.  I remember the rainbows over the Caribbean islands as we arrived to port every morning.  I now know that God knew what he was doing with the timing.  I needed that cruise, I needed the sunsets and the rainbows and the beautiful blue water to keep me going on weeks like this.  Because deep down I do know that the same God that allows that beauty is the same God who is taking care of Sloane.  He’s the same God wrapping his arms around the families who recently lost loved ones.  He’s the same God giving strength to the new parents as they buried their baby today.  He’s the same God guiding the doctors caring for my friend’s family member.  He’s always the same God and we have got to trust in that.  I know damn well what it feels like the be tried, to reach rock bottom and gasp for air.  I know what the suffocation of the unknown feels like.  I know what it feels like when the world comes shattering down.  But I also know we HAVE to trust in God.  We HAVE to pray.  We HAVE to change the current path that our society is traveling. We have to love, we have to have more grace, more kindness, more courage, more Christ. 

Sloane is doing well.  She is halfway done with her systemic chemo and has a big couple weeks coming up.  She goes for her 4th round of chemo next week and then will have her next eye exam under anesthesia the second week of March. She also will have another MRI in March, date unknown. Sloane’s body is tolerating the chemo well overall.  She is sleeping better (on most nights) and eating well.  If she’s not eating, she’s dancing, and if she’s not dancing, she’s trying to do whatever it is Audrey’s doing.  Austin and I continue to feel tremendous amounts of love and support and we are so thankful.

Some big prayer requests this time: Please pray for families who lost loved ones this week, pray for their strength, pray for their patience, pray for their healing.  Please pray for our country that change starts to be observed.  Please pray for the community of Parkland, FL.  Please pray they feel support in the days to come.  Please pray for Sloane, please pray her little body stays strong through her 4th round of chemo.  Please pray for her eye exam, please pray that the tumors are shrinking and no new tumors have appeared.  And lastly, please wrap your arms around the people you love, and tell them you love them as much as you can.

St. Lucy, pray for us.
Blessed Father Solanus Casey, pray for us.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

November 21, 2017

I'm not much of a writer and my mind has been all over the map in the past 24 hours. Yesterday was the hardest day of our lives, to date. One cannot be prepared to sit in a doctors office and be told their child has Cancer. Our child? Our sweet spunky 15 month old has cancer? The pit in my stomach is real? Can you start over? I'm suffocating, we're suffocating. Oh please, God. But there's medicine, and chemotherapy, and really intelligent well practiced physicians. And there was a lot more said and only a little retained. Yesterday was a really really hard and long day.  Sloane was diagnosed with bilateral retinoblastomas, also known as cancerous tumors in both eyes. She will be having an MRI under anesthesia on Friday morning to rule out a tumor in her brain. She will then have surgery to get a port placed in her chest for 6-8 months of systemic chemotherapy. Surgery will follow the chemo and her eyes will be followed closely. We became a part of the Riley Family ye

Saint Lucy

God is GOOD is an understatement.  We spoke with Sloane's oncologist this morning.  The MRI showed no brain tumors and no optic nerve involvement.  Austin and I took a huge deep breath, that felt good. Unfortunately, her left eye is as advanced as the doctors originally thought.  We are awaiting staging for her right eye to determine further treatment.  The left eye will need to be removed, it will not be responsive to any type of chemotherapy and the retina is completely detached and basically covered in tumor.  The staging of her right eye will determine if she needs systemic chemotherapy or local chemotherapy (chemo injected into her eye).  We should know more this afternoon.  If the doctors feel that her right eye will need systemic chemo then we will proceed with a port placement hopefully this week.  I hope this all makes sense. Looking back and reflecting on this past week almost brings me to my knees.  God works in very mysterious and very timely ways.  He gave us such a

Hope

Over the past three weeks I've heard a lot of the same words repeated to me, and some of them just make me laugh a little under my breath.  For example: when people say "it's so inspiring to see how well you're holding yourself together" or "I'm so impressed by how strong your faith is."  They don't make me chuckle because those kinds of things are funny, but more because of  how untrue I find those words to be.  Honestly, this is not what holding it together looks like, I wasn't given a choice, I didn't get to voice my opinion, and I would never choose this upon my worst enemy, this is not holding it together. Let's be real, everyone knows how much I love to voice my opinion, and I got no say. Secondly, my faith found me again on a Tuesday morning in a doctors office.  And at the same time I tried to process that this kind stranger was diagnosing my daughter with advanced cancer, I was also trying to process how Jesus was going to ac