last. chemo. treatment.

I don’t quite have the energy to capitalize those letters. Though I have a significant portion of treatment remaining, I am happy to say the toughest days will soon be behind me. I’m making it! With lots of help, that is…

…which I’ve been thinking a lot about lately. Samuel Rutherford wrote, “Whenever I find myself in the cellar of life’s affliction, I always look about for wine.” If anyone is wondering what God’s love–the choicest of wine–looks like, there are three stand-outs for me. (When I share these with folks, I get teary every time.)

FIRST stand-out: our kids. We knew from the get-go that shielding them from the woes of cancer would be impossible. We also knew God would use this trial in some good way…some uniquely fashioned way for each of them. Jack, Luke, and Sarah have seen mommy puny, pokey, pukey and bald. Well, Sarah never saw me bald.  She didn’t want to whatsoever. I don’t blame her. Each time I saw my own hairless head in the mirror I was a bit freaked out.  Even still, our kids have grown, have known love, have gotten to know Jesus in new ways, and have had a good year. It took a village. His love endures forever.

A vignette for you…

Sarah’s angst over mommy having cancer showed up in two main ways: Repeated inquiries about when my hair would return. And wakeful nights. Night lights and stuffed animals didn’t offer much consolation.  She needed presence.  Loving, reach-out-and-hold-you presence. Grandma to the rescue!  (Yes, Virginia, there is a Wonder Woman.)  Then, sure enough, as soon as my hair started its comeback, so did Sarah’s sleep.  His love endures forever.

The SECOND way I’ve known God’s love? 180 meals. Count ’em: ONE HUNDRED AND EIGHTY.  The bounteous gift of meals, meals, meals has been a salient reminder of God’s care for me. In a couple of weeks I’ll be moving from our side porch to the basement two coolers which held specially-delivered meals for the last nine months.  It’s going to be a poignant moment.  A sense of arrival.  But I’m going to miss walking by them each day as they seem to call out, “God loves you.”  Now I’m rethinking my plan…I wonder how much it would cost to bronze them?  His love endures forever.

The THIRD stand-out experience has been the comforting presence of my faithful God.  For me, fighting cancer is an experience of abundance and desolation. The journey is rich and brimming with surprising grace, love, and provision.  And it’s bleak with loneliness, fears, physical pain and long nights of sleeplessness.  An anxious heart is sometimes to blame for the sleeplessness.  Often, my inside-out, upside-down, rip-torn, drugged-up body is the culprit.  It’s a bit out of sync with the cadence of normal life.  However, each morning mercies are new.  Time after time the grace-thread by which I’m “hanging in there” proves enough.  Day by day my soul is being renewed.  Through it all, I can tell you, God is faithful and he is present.  His love endures forever.

“Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good.  His love endures forever.” Psalm 136:1

Gets me every time.