Unnamed and Unfinished

I was that church girl.   The one who followed all the rules.   Crossed every “t” and dotted each and every “i.”   An if you didn’t, you were wrong.   That church girl, the one I was, was convinced that if you were part of a church that was NOT our non-denominational, independent, Stone-Campbell Christian church, you were part of the wrong church.   Sins were so obvious, and if you committed any of the “big ones” you needed to fear for your eternity (and of course, I never committed those “big ones”). That was me.   I hope it isn’t me now.   Life has had a way of dulling my sharp edges.   It has helped me see that there is far more grey in the world than I used to think existed, and all that black and white is slowly bleeding together. This does not mean that the me of today does not believe in absolute truth, as revealed in scripture.   This me believes that still, heart and soul, unwaveringly.   But this me also realizes that I do not corner the market on salvation.   Or

Something beautiful happened for me last night.   A couple of individual I don’t actually know, but that know my parents, blessed my family with a gift.   These people have been following our journey with Big over the past few weeks and wanted to show us their love and concern. One person, a momma of her own little, is an independent consultant for some pampering products.   She sent a bag full of samples of soaps and scrubs, lotions and bath soaks with my mom and dad for Big, Little and I to use.   I have never met this sweet sister in Christ, but she cared for me in a real way.   She took what she had and used it to bless me.   She allowed herself to be the Church. Another couple, again one that I don’t even know, sent cash with my parents for us.   They knew that even with insurance there is travel and meals on the road and medicines and copays and that for many, that becomes a struggle.   This gift touched me more than I can express.   I had to travel for work last weeken

I don’t want to keep you in suspense, so here is the short answer:   It’s not cancer!   I was leaving one of the childcare providers I visit for work and saw the phone number from Big’s surgeon, Dr. R, on the phone.   I immediately pulled off and answered.     Dr. R: Hello Mom, How’s your day? Me: I think whatever you tell me will determine that! Dr. R: Then you are having a GREAT DAY! We got Big’s pathology report back and she doesn’t have cancer.   She has Kikuchi Fujimoto disease.   Do you have a pen and paper, because I know you need me to spell that.   After he spelled it, I of course asked what it was.   Dr. R admitted its really rare and he doesn’t know much about it.   He told me what he knows:   Its benign.   Its usually treated with anti-inflammatory meds and sometimes steroids.   It is caused by lots of dead cells building up in the lymph nodes.   Its usually in Asian women.   Its often mistaken for Lymphoma.   Biopsy is the only way to diagnose Kik

  Don’t listen to the song Slow Down by Nicole Nordeman on the way home from your Big’s biopsy… or after any major medical procedure on any of your children… or after any major kid milestone… or maybe if you have kids at all.   If you choose to listen, please know you will probably UGLY CRY.   ON THE INTERSTATE.   WITH BIG.   I just bought the Nicole Nordeman CD, Every Mile Mattered , last week because Jen Hatmaker was talking about it, with Nicole, on her podcast.   I love Jen Hatmaker.   I love the little I know of Nicole Nordeman, and I loved hearing her on the podcast.   So I bought the CD.   I hadn’t listened to it all the way through, yet.     Guys, I am not kidding you.   The song that started after I got Big in the car after she was released from surgery was Slow Down .   Big and I were on our way to lunch. And I started to cry.   The CD has the version where Nicole sings with her daughter, Pepper.   I was just slightly teary listening to the two of them sing u

Today I am part of a club I don’t want to be in.   The club of moms and dads sitting in this surgery waiting room waiting for surgical results.   There is a mom and dad and two “big” sisters here with a toddler brother in surgery.   I wonder why.   Are they fearing a diagnosis, like me?   I am sitting next to a sweet momma whose daughter, a year older than my Big, is having her Chemo port removed this morning.   Her daughter had a cancerous brain tumor that responded positively to chemo.   She is in remission.   But her journey was difficult and unpleasant. I don’t want her story.   I don’t want my kid to have to suffer chemo.   I don’t want to develop that momma’s faith and trust in the way she had to develop her faith and trust. But, I try to wait and trust…knowing God knows what I need, and what Big needs.   He is good.   His plan for Big is Good.   Dr R. just came and talked to me.   He said the surgery went really well.   He HAND DELIVERED the nodes to the lab.  

Tonight is strange.   It’s kind of like the night before Christmas, full of anticipation and the feeling that I won’t be able to sleep.   The knowing that tomorrow is a day when I will wake before the sun.   But instead of waiting in anticipation for something I know will be good, I wait for answers that might be good and might be bad.   It’s a strange anticipation. And I know so many people are praying.   It gives me comfort and it makes me feel like I am not alone in this health issue with Big.   I know people are praying for her both here and abroad.   A friend called today and left me a message letting me know the church he visited this morning had Big on their prayer list, and they prayed for her.   A friend of the family from my childhood days let me know on social media that the East Coast is praying for Big.   I am not alone.   God’s family has us blanketed in prayer. But that makes me examine my theology of prayer.   Almost 13 years my mom had a massive stroke.   And m