Tuesday, April 2, 2013

Mine does ...

My sweet daughters (inlaw) Sarah & Erin.

Outside the birds are chirping and the sun is shining—should be spring, right? Well it would be if the temps weren’t in the twenties and a wind chill in the teens. Mr. Ground Hog, I want to hunt you down! Hence, LuLu still sits in the garage and Rusty (my exercise bike), the sidekick, awaits upstairs with a nasty grin.
Last week was one for the books. My daughter-in-law Erin and her kids (my sweet grandchildren) were here, and Erin was on a mission: rid our cupboards of bad foods and fill them with cancer-fighting superheroes. She worked her fingers to the bone, but mission was accomplished. Then Easter weekend was upon us and the rest of our kids and grandkids descended upon us (minus a son and grandchild…missed them terribly). Sarah joined Erin and all kitchen duties were taken care of. The kids played around us, under us, over us. Eggs were colored, hunted and eaten. Chocolate bunnies became extinct (once again) and these old wooden floors became Holy Ground (once again).
And then… we worshipped together. As the thirteen of us sat on a row at church a God-thing happened. My heart, that is cracked, weighted with sorrow, and barely able to move me through my days, began to thump harder and stronger. The weight on my shoulders sagging with worry over Gary’s return of cancer began to lighten with each hymn. As several grandchildren took turns sitting on my lap, my shriveled soul once again expanded inside of me. As I sat and listened to the story of our Christ’s resurrection, while coloring on my lap with Isamae and Kasia (our four-year-old twin granddaughters) God whispered my name. When Gary passed me a communion tray over the sweet heads of grandchildren, our fingers touched and my love for him, my faith in our risen Savior and the compassion of our God flowed through me and I knew… we would get through this. Whether the cancer goes or stays or harms, the miracle had already happened. The miracle of family—people who love you unconditionally. Who does that anymore? Mine does.
If you have a family like mine, cherish them. If your family is broken, be the one to fix it. If your family is scattered, be the one to call them home. Do not take this miracle for granted.
Spring will come. LuLu (my pink bike) and I will ride again. And if God is gracious, my love, Gary, will ride with me (if I push him out the door and make him).

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