Sunshine and visits from friends who get us and bring with them the warmth of familiar.
But it's hard to live in the "other side" seasons of life. The moments, however long they are strung together, where disappointment and devastation come in waves, stripping you down to skin. It's gutsier still to admit aloud that your new home address is 291 Heartache Way.
Holly McRae's words of her sweet Kate ring so raw and real:
And so some days I still morn. Life as it once was. Hopes and dreams that nowhere included cancer at the age of 5. Nor 2 more brain tumors at the age of 7. It is a battle not to curse the leg brace some days. Not to resent some peoples seemingly easy and seemless life. Not to be offended hearing people stress and worry over having the best of schools, knowing school for Kate could be a future source of frustration now. That is reality, the little things you still struggle with that you wish you didn't. The occasional hurtful comment that you wish didn't sting, but it still does. But here is the thing I have noticed. Those moments of remembering, wanting so desperately to go back, wanting to brush Kate's blonde curls one more time and slip a cute new pair of flip flops over her feet. Those desires have lessened with time. Of course I still want them, I want Kate to use her right hand, I don't want to see her leg muscles atrophy, I want her mind to be sharp and alert in the future. But I love my new Kate. I love that her tenacious spirit allows her to pull off her hat in class and sit balder than all of the boys. I love that some days she will tell me "mom, i really want to wear flip flops again one day. But, if I don't it's really not a big deal. It's okay." I love that her beauty from the inside has shined brightest during the ugliest of storms. She loves life, and doesn't fear death. She doesn't fear it, but she really wants to live. And so now, there are more moments where despite the frustration, and at times fear, I feel so grateful to still have her for now. As I know far too many mothers that don't. That I can tuck her in at night, or hold her during a movie. That we can still talk about life and dream about the future. Those are the moments I realize, yes, she is still battling a life threatening cancer, but she is still living. And I am trying too.
Please join the McRaes, begging obnoxiously for a Good God to touch Kate and heal her body. She will have an MRI tomorrow morning. Please pray for the results to be life...and more life.