Our spring is coming

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They are telling us that we’ll be here until spring.  Who would have thought that we’d be here, in this place, longer than we would be home in the time span of a  year?  It could end up being a total of 8 or 9 months.

They tell us we’ll be living a “new normal.”

There isn’t anything normal about this.  Cancer isn’t normal.  We weren’t created for it.  God has given us life.  So we fight for that precious gift daily.

Jesus wept at Lazarus’ grave.  He weeps with us too.  Our sorrow becomes His sorrow.

The truth is this world is fallen.  We were created for life~for right here forever~but it was stolen away from us.  Now we live with glimpses of paradise but this world isn’t paradise.

Part of the fall brought with it sickness and disease.  It has affected Bob.  He is fighting for his life and until the Lord tells him to quit fighting here~and welcomes him into his eternal home~he fights on and I fight alongside of him, because life is a gift!

God has a plan in all of this and it’s unfolding.

Summer, Fall, Winter…  The seasons changed.  And so have we.

It has brought us back to a vulnerable childlike place.  But isn’t that exactly where God wants us?

We don’t experience His presence unless we are humble, vulnerable, like little children crying out to a parent.  And what good parent ignores a child?  And what good papa doesn’t quiet the cries of his children?  Abba, our papa cares.  He’s a good Father.

Bob and I have a question that we ask each other often.  That question is…  “Is it time to lament?”

You see one night when things looked bleak, when we didn’t think we could go another step and we were tired of being strong, I said, “Christians have lost the art of lamenting.  We need to lament.  It’s not an option.  It’s a necessity.”

So lament we did.  Lying in bed we cried, cried out to God, not with fancy words or prayers.  No, just with the truth of how we were feeling.  And you know what?  We fell asleep in the arms of God.  And the next day brought peace and answered prayer.

We are looking forward to the end of this storm, this winter that we are in.  We are looking forward to seeing all the signs of spring and new life…The crocus’ poking up from beneath the snow, the sun shining brighter, the patches of snow disappearing and the grass greening.

We are looking forward to spring with the hope of being home where we can live out what the medical staff is calling our “new normal.”

Blessings,

Nancy

(Transplant day is Wednesday, January 13, 2016.  Scott’s bone marrow will be harvested that morning and Bob will receive the infusion that afternoon.  Thank you, our friends, who have been so faithful in prayer.  We love and appreciate each one of you.)

Safe and Secure

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He sat at the round bistro table, feet dangling from his chair.  His white socks stretched to his knees, legs swaying, eagerly waiting for a slice of pizza to satisfy his little appetite.
His tiny mouth puckered around the tip of a straw sipping orange soda while his big, round, dark eyes looked sideways toward his daddy.  He sipped then spoke, sometimes placing his little face in front of his daddy’s eyes.
Deep in conversation they were.  The little one asking questions about many topics.  He had an array of queries about history, math, sports — you name it — he was covering everything and his daddy paid close attention to every detail of every sentence.
Never once did I see a smart phone sitting on their table or in the hands of the father.  Not even to record the special moment with a snap of the camera.  His undivided attention focused on his son.  The little one with the dark spiked hair and toothless grin was of utmost importance to his daddy and the little guy was comfortable in his presence.
If he squirmed or got restless, his daddy responded with gentleness for his son to stay patient for just a little longer.
He watched his father closely and emulated him.   Where his dad placed his napkin, his fork and his drink, the boy did the same.
After sinking his teeth into his first bite of pizza the little boy’s big dark eyes grew bigger.  Glancing at daddy, he tapped his shoulder and said a simple, “Thank you.”
The daddy leaned toward his son, smiled and wiped a little sauce from the boy’s face.   The loving affection for his son was clear and the son sat securely and comfortably in that love.
Their exchange was inspiring.
Is my relationship with my Father in Heaven that comfortable?
Jesus called God the warm; intimate child-like Aramaic word,  Abba Father, a tender, endearing name (like papa or daddy would be).  It’s a perfect example of the affectionate, dependent relationship He had with His Father.
And He wants that for us too.
No lofty prayer, no special words, no cleaning up is necessary before we sit in our Father’s presence.  He’ll wipe our stains clean through Christ.
We can just be ourselves.  We can ask questions.  We can share our needs.  We can say thank you for His unconditional love and for His constant encouragement to reach higher and become better.
And even when we don’t speak, He reads our hearts and responds to our deepest needs.
The good Father challenges us to let go of indifference and to reach, stretch, share and love — like He does.
The hard places discipline us under His careful watch and lead us to say yes to His yes instead of shaking our heads in defiance.
When we say yes to His yes, I bet He smiles.
When He says no to us, I hope we understand that He has only our best interest in mind.
When we ask Him for our heart’s desires, sometimes His answers come as YES, sometimes they come as NO and sometimes they come as NOT NOW — just wait.
But it’s not about the answers.  Not really.  It’s about Him and our relationship with Him and when we realize that’s all we really need, it becomes enough.

Blessings!      Nancy © 2015

Daddy, Carry Me

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“Daddy, I can’t go.  I’m tired.”  Her hands reach up, “Daddy carry me. I’m scared.  It’s getting dark.  I can’t see.”

Like a good daddy he whisks her up into his arms and gently places her on his shoulders.

The evening is fading and the sun begins to withdraw behind the horizon.  Darkness isn’t far behind.

But she’s safe; secure in her father’s embrace and her fear subsides.

He sprints across the shore with confidence because he knows the way and she trusts him.

So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will         strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.            Isaiah 41:10

Blessings!  Nancy ❤