"... what if your healing comes through tears?"
Please pray for us. A few things that immediately come to mind:
- Pray that mom will be comfortable and pain-free as she finishes her days
- Pray for memories, time together, laughter, sacred hours as a family
- Pray for the hearts and minds of her little ones, especially. (Lauren is still in elementary school, and Shannon and Dude are in middle school.) They are being so brave.
- Pray for dad. Lots of decisions. Lots of long nights. Lots of load ahead.
- Pray that somehow, though he is only seven months old, Rowdy will have supernatural and vivid memory of his grandma.
- This may seem silly, and I know each deep, labored breath is already numbered, but as we begin to face and imagine life without mom physically in it, we are broken knowing she won't be present for dozens and hundreds, if not thousands of 'big deals' for us. The varsity boy's championship game is a big deal for our family. Dad, Tim, Caleb and I coach and Kevin is the senior starting point guard. Assuming they make it through the play-offs, would you mind praying that mom will be there for the Championship? Pray that Kevin could run to her at the end of the game, one last time? The game is on Saturday, March 1 -- 45 days away.
- Pray for strong, real, nearly-touchable peace.
Life is a story. Why do we die? Because we live. Why do we live? Because our Maker opened His mouth and began to tell a story.”
N.D. Wilson (Death by Living)
I wasn't there for the beginning of her story. It turns out I wasn't even a part of *most* of her story. But I will be there when our Maker says "It is finished, Suzanne." And while it may feel like the last chapters of her book are being written, we know better. We know Chapter 2 is titled "Earth," and Chapter 3 is "Welcome Home." (Chapter 1 is "The Artist's Imagination" -- the part where He casts the roles, predestines the characters, ordains their plot line.) We know this story has no 'The End.'. We're crying and moaning over here in Chapter Two. But someday, in Chapter 433,782, we'll only talk about the Times of Tears, for they will be no more. Forever, and ever, and ever, and on.
Thank you for the continued love, the constant support, the precious prayers. It's a bit of heaven-on-earth to be the recipient of rallying care. Thank you. (And in mama bear's honor, go snuggle any one you love even if you have lots to get done today.)