Not for Nothing



I keep wondering what will be left.

After all the trying, all the hoping, all the tears, after everything has been thought through, said, whispered, and prayed.  When my plans can’t budge what is best.

I still don’t know the rest of my dad’s story, but I know who is the Gracious Storyteller, dare I say the Author.  There are pages that we can’t see…parts of the book where the ink isn’t visible to our teary eyes.  And even though I can’t see everything, and I twist and swing against my confusion, this story will end with Restoration.  With a healthy, cancer-free dad. No more tears, no more darkness.  No more disease.  No more death. No more leaving daughters and wives. I believe.

Tears that fall aren’t wasted.

And in the end, the end is
Oceans and oceans
Of love and love again
We’ll see how the tears that…

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Nonetheless. Joy.

I met this young woman, a college student then.  A wife and mother now.

Back then, my littles were little, and occasionally needed a babysitter. And so this lovely person drifted into our lives, faithfully watching them if we were out.

And they loved her. She had huge hair, wild and free.  And sparkling eyes.

So it isn’t surprising to me that she is loved so remarkably today…in Conway, Arkansas , no less, and in hearts no matter where.

She’s Pink, but not because she wants to be. Breast cancer never issues an invitation with an RSVP. It comes uninvited, swift and scary. It offers fear and worry…yours to take.

I still know her, although not in person.

I know her because faith friends are always faith friends.  And I know her because her blog is her story. And because her story is joy. Beautiful joy.

Imagine joy in breast cancer. Breast cancer defeated, then returns. Still joy.  Deep joy, unwavering joy.

Maybe you want to know her too.