Monday, March 31, 2014

Update #71

We have a tape dispenser in our house.
I think it's the coolest thing.
Chad would strongly disagree with me.

This tape dispenser is a battery-powered, automatic tape dispenser. 
All you need to do is just pull on the very end of the tape and, voila, the tape dispenser pushes out the perfect amount of tape you need for most jobs.

Sounds fabulous, right?
It is. 

It's able to be used with one hand.
It sticks to the table top.
It makes a cool noise.
And it's brightly colored.

It's a nifty, fun invention according to me.
According to Chad, it's the most irritating object we have in our house.

[Don’t tell him, but I was laughing at him during the Christmas season when he had to use it to wrap gifts. It was super funny hearing him "talk" to the dispenser and complain that he couldn't figure out how to use it…that it takes a simple tasks of getting a piece of tape and turns it into a big production.]

So, despite Chad's complaints, we've had this tape dispenser sitting on our desk in our kitchen for a few years.

Just the other day, I noticed that one of the kids had added to it.
One of them took a pen to a piece of tape and wrote the word, "Pray" on it and stuck that piece of tape to the side of the dispenser.

I have no idea.
(Really, why do kids do half the things they do?  Especially boys.)

But here's what I know.

I love that they did.
I love that they knew enough about life and God and their need for Him that they illogically graffitti-ed our tape dispenser with one simple, yet life-changingly powerful  word, "Pray."

There's much about having a cancer diagnosis that royally stinks.  I mean ROYALLY.

But, if it means that our kids know that importance of God and Heaven and faith and love… 
But if that means that our kids get to see life through the eyes of eternity…
But if it means that Emilie and Daniel grow up from a young age knowing that the fullness of a life well-lived doesn't consist of having the best things, making the most money, landing the most prestigious job, taking the most exotic vacation, or even living the most days…
If it means that they are growing deep roots…

If it means those things, then I need to acknowledge that there is much, much, much good that comes from difficult things.
That great blessings can – and do – flow from hard things.

But blessed is the one who trusts in the Lord,
whose confidence is in him.
They will be like a tree planted by the water
that sends out its roots by the stream.
It does not fear when heat comes;
its leaves are always green.
It has no worries in a year of drought
and never fails to bear fruit.
 - Jeremiah 17:7-8

Love to you today,

P.S. Headed to Roswell on Wednesday for blood work and doctor's visit.  Don't expect there to be any sort of treatment change at this visit given I've only been on this new medicine for 4 weeks and that's too early to tell its efficacy.  She will, however, probably order scans before my visit next month.  Blah. 

Thursday, March 6, 2014

Update #70

What do you see when you look at this picture?
And, more importantly, why the heck might I might be posting it this morning? 

No, despite what it may look like, I'm not complaining about the fact that we still have lots and lots of snow.
In fact, I'm actually super grateful that we do still have all this white stuff on the ground.  
Before you roll your eyes, let me explain.

Last night, between 8:30 and 9 PM, a group of friends took it upon themselves to silently circle our house in prayer.
They braved the cold.  They put off putting their kids to bed. They sacrificed their relaxation time in their own homes.
To. Pray. For. Us.

As Chad and I tried to go through the regular bedtime routine with our kids, that was happening outside.

For me, I wrestled with the illogical mixture of feeling embarrassed, guilty, grateful, and joyous all at the same time. 
Because knowing that you are loved in such a sacrificial way is both humbling and awe-inspiring.
And knowing that your God is one who sometimes calls His people to do crazy, sacrificial stuff is both encouraging and challenging. 

But, for our kids…there was nothing but an overwhelming excitement.
They thought this was great and received this gift with nothing but a sense of, "Of course, this was exactly the thing that God would do for us!" 

It was so cool watching them sneak over to the windows and open the curtains or blinds just enough to peer through with one eye.
It was so encouraging to know that God made Himself more evident to them through this act of sacrificial service by our friends. 
And it was so funny to hear Daniel exclaim with building excitement: " Hey…that's Mr. Goble.  With Mrs. Goble!  With Ainsley!  And…wait…is that Gray peeing behind a tree?" 

So, why did I attach this picture of a snow-covered portion of our backyard?
Because that same snow that I've been complaining about and wishing would just go away…that same snow captured the evidence of what occurred here last night:


Mixed in with Mollie Moo's paw prints is the unmistakable path of footprints completely encircling our home.  
Tangible footprints that represent intangible, unseen prayers.
Tangible footprints that represent the radical love the Father has for His children.
Tangible footprints that represent the powerful realities of the unseen world around us. 

And, as soon as I opened the curtains and saw that this morning, I just couldn't wait to take a picture of it. 
To capture it as a testimony to, not just the love of great friends, but to the God who Sees, Who Knows, Who Listens and Who Acts. 

And, now that I have captured this picture, now…the snow may melt.
Until December.
Really, snow, you may melt now.
Bye, bye.

Truly thankful. Truly humbled. Truly blessed.