From an article originally posted December 3, 2012…

I’m not a gifted person when it comes to waiting. Feeling lousy right now is making me angry. I want to be better. I want to be able to walk around the block. I long to be able to reduce my drugs enough to be able to pick up my kids from school. I want to meet neighbors, host dinners, meet new babies in our little church, help our sweet friend battling cancer with their young son. I want to do anything but be in this darn bed recovering! I want to be this…

I’m a little done with this...

I need to remember the person in the top has two very large cancerous tumors, and the woman in the bottom hardly has any noticeable tumors. I need to remember the blessings of this difficult journey. I need to remember I was never once forsaken in the midst of my weary four months. And yet this grumbling heart is anxious to close the door on this chapter.

Friends, I know there will be a day where I take for granted making it to the dinner table. There will be days I pick up the kids from school without fanfare of being fit to drive. I will again take for granted the joy of cooking for my family or chatting at the curb with a neighbor. One day my head, bald and bare, won’t give away my reality. Now, as I struggle to hold up my own frame, it seems impossible. But we do, we so often live our blessings without ever acknowledging them. Perhaps the gift of losing one’s health is the gratitude it can grow for the simple functions of life. May I be forever changed from this. Lord, please.

A bit of weariness is lifting from my man. Every day he eagerly looks for improvement in me. I cannot put into words the integrity of the man that loves so well. The people who have lived this journey near to us have seen the steady, sure love of this man that has walked a very hard four months. I am very blessed. I always knew it, but I know it in a new way after cancer.