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I watched my friend get into her vehicle this morning. Many feelings went through my head and heart. The rain is falling. My friend's parents are with her. I am out walking my dog. These parents are getting into the car to go to another chemotherapy treatment for their daughter's brain cancer. I am walking my dog. The rain is falling. Day in, day out, I walk my dog. Some days the rain falls. And my friends' parents get in a car with her to go to a chemotherapy treatment. This is a normal day. This is not a normal day. There are mundane tasks going on…repetitive ones. There are immensely difficult tasks being put into place. If I were the parent, I'd be tempted to put my child on a plane to some tropical island and pretend nothing was wrong. On some level, however, I'd know that we'd be missing some very important part of a plan that has been put into place by doctors to help my child fight a nasty disease. (Please, God, why? Why do I have to face this? Please take this away. Lord, I CAN'T DO THIS!! I truly cannot do this. I do not have the strength.) I walk my dog and feel as if I should not be having a "normal" day when my friends are not having a normal day. I feel helpless, until I remember that I have been and will continue to storm heaven on her behalf. There are no promises or guarantees of healing, but yet God tells us to bring the sick to him, and anoint them with oil. He tells us to have faith, to believe. He says it is not "if" he can heal. He says that He can heal. (God, I come to you as a little child because you instruct me to. I cry out for healing because you tell me to. I've seen you heal miraculously. You are the SAME GOD who healed yesterday. You've even healed my father, my son, me, others I know. You are the GREAT PHYSICIAN. You love my friend more than I can comprehend. You love her even more than her parents do! You have her, even in this. You have her.)

When my first baby was born and in intensive care for 3 months, I remember visiting him and not being able to touch him. I had to sit and look in on him from a safe distance, not stimulating him for fear he would lose weight. After all, how much weight can a 1 lb. 12 oz. baby lose and still continue to exist as a living human being? I wanted to fix him and couldn't. People all over the United States were praying for his life. Slowly, with many ups and downs along the way, he improved and healed. During his hospital stay, I remember leaving the hospital and walking outside to "real life" again. I remember looking around and being amazed that normal life was still occurring. How was that even possible? I was sure that the world had completely stopped. How could parents be laughing with children? Didn't they know my baby was inside the hospital fighting for his life? How could a parent have a baby "in their possession"? It truly was not fair. I envied those who could hold and cuddle their child, offering love and warmth to them as they grew. I was secretly angry that life was continuing for others while mine felt like it had come to a crazy standstill. I wondered when the waiting would end.

As I see others struggling, I wonder how often they have moments of looking out the window at the lady walking her dog or at the parents with children in their stroller and wonder how normal life can still go on. I wonder how often they just long to be the one doing the mundane, walking their dog, day in and day out. There is much here in this life that I do not understand. There is much that breaks my heart and even sickens me. When I stay here and keep my eyes on these things--the hardships, the uncertainties, the seemingly impossible situations, the downright horrendous scenarios in the world--I begin to doubt. I begin to see with glasses that have been tainted by the film of dirt the world can leave behind. When I'm just about to give up, and when my vision is all but blinded, the still small voice inside reminds me that this world is not all there is. This world is not all there is. This world is NOT all there is! This is a fallen world. The scriptures make it as plain as can be. Jesus says, "In this world, YOU WILL HAVE TROUBLE." Wow! But that is not all. He goes on to say, "But take heart! I have overcome the world." YES! It is not easy, but I lay down my ideas of what healing looks like. I lay down my pleas of desperation and attempts to make outcomes all that I long for them to be, and I lean on the strong and unshakeable shoulders of a God who is so much bigger than I can comprehend. My inability to see the outcomes does not change his sovereignty. If I could see the end and control it, why would I need God? I will not bring him to my level and doubt his existence because I do not understand all of His ways. One day, heaven will be restored on earth and all pain and sorrow will pass away. Until that day, I lean my head on His enormous shoulder, and I ask Him how I should pray. I still cry out for healing. I still pray for the miraculous. And I lean on His shoulder, take His hand and look into His eyes. My heart begins to change. My fear turns to peace and rest. My perspective turns heavenward. Peace is restored. Peace is available. Yes, Lord…all the time, You are good. There is still much I do not understand. There are still so many things beyond my control. I, however, am changed in the midst of it all. My prayer becomes, "Lord, please take my hand and help me hobble through, tiny step, by tiny step. Better yet, let me stand on your feet like a small child dancing with her father throughout a magnificent ballroom. Take the full weight of my burdens as I lean my body fully against Yours. I cannot stand on my own. Keep me upright, Lord. Send your angels, Lord. Show us Your power and glory. Walk among us. Give us your strength, because we do not have enough on our own to make it through. Amen.