surreal

Cancer is weird. I mean it absolutely, seriously sucks. But it's also really weird. As the dust is starting to sort of settle on a new life that is dictated by this cancer, I feel myself being bounced between two realities: the surreal one, where it is hard to believe Ethan really has cancer, and the painful reality that in fact, he really does.

Yesterday morning, for instance, for even a few minutes it almost seemed impossible to be true. Ethan was running around with Eloise, laughing, giggling and free from his "tubies" (his pic line and IV) for the first time in a month. He moved on from sister time to start "painting" our house pink (a great color choice) with a dustpan (pretend of course, but he was pretty thorough on the walls of 2 floors!). I was bustling around trying to get laundry in and out, and it was almost like the last month hadn't happened. We were just hanging out having a normal morning.

But then the reality of cancer when we sat down for lunch and he was so tired he held his head in his hand while he picked at his food. And the fact that we were just in the ICU on Monday because they thought he might be experiencing sepsis. And the fact that he just had chemo put into his spine. His spine. Again.

This past summer and fall I started following the blog of a family I've never met whose daughter was battling a rare brain cancer. It was one of those strange experiences where I really felt my heart just ache for people I've never met. As I followed their story I felt compelled to pray for them often. And every time I would read a new blog post I would think - there is no way I could do that. Absolutely no way. Quietly, yet desperately praying in my heart that God would never have something like that be part of my story or my kids' stories.

Fast forward a few months and now here I am: the mother who is writing the blog post about my child who has cancer. Surreal really doesn't even begin to capture how jarring this has been. I never would have thought that this would be a part of our story and then BAM - here we are, clinging to the truth of who God is, more dependent on Him than ever before. Taking each day as it comes, not even having the capacity to think about the things ahead, because all we can do is focus on the here and now.  Life has dramatically changed.

People have asked me if this has really ramped up my prayer life. A question that's hard to answer because it actually feels a lot more like talking. I haven't had the capacity for deep, long prayers - thankfully Pete's heart has been moved to pray that way. For me, it's been a lot of Please Lord. Help me. I know you're here. You are faithful. Help me. Please. Lots of short cries to my Father, lots of the Holy Spirit bringing to my mind the truth of who God is, helping me to rest in his sovereignty, goodness, and faithfulness even amidst the surreal new journey we are on.

Thank you for upholding us in prayer. For all the gifts and meals and emails and cards and words and prayers and everything. We are being held up and supported by all of you, and we could not be more grateful.