Cancer has been our life. Chemo has been our life. A scattered family has been our life. And now we're trying to figure out how to live again

Trauma does that to you, I think.

How am I doing? I’m picking up all the pieces, and I’m not sure where they all fit. I think some are lost. There are pieces I don’t even recognize.

How am I doing? I get asked that a lot. People expect excitement. Happiness. And I am ... I really am, although sometimes it seems I must remind myself of that. But it’s complicated. My nerves haven’t caught up with reality and are still frayed from trying to survive.

Why would one child survive, but not the other? There is no sense in it. And yet, this is called a victory … This breathing, while grieving someone who can’t.

Cancer and its dreadful cure don’t care how brave you are.

We came close.

But she lived.

Why?

Survivor’s guilt is real, ya’ll.

We nearly lost Eva – not to cancer, but to the cure. David carried her listless body into the hospital for that last stay. She hadn’t eaten in 2 months, save for a few bites here and there. Her body was wasting away and shutting down.

Today was called a victory. Maybe? It feels like collapsing across the finish line, bloodied and battered and trying to breathe. Smiling because we “made it” while every nerve is still in shock from what we survived.

She was supposed to be there, standing next to Eva, and cheering the loudest. This win is complicated, and there’s no clean way to celebrate it. It’s relief tangled with sorrow, joy wound tightly with grief. And nothing feels right.

This win comes with grief attached. Eva survived. But someone we loved did not. Haddie fought just as hard, but she wasn’t here to hear the bell. Her absence lingered around us as we waited for that sound.

This. Isn’t. How. It. Was. Supposed. To. Happen.

Love remembers what was lost. We approached this moment with a quiet, reserved joy. Our victory isn’t whole or loud. It walked in with tears, head bowed low, and in pieces.

This isn’t what was supposed to be.

This is kindergarten bible class 101 ya'll

But now they can't change it because changing logos sparks rumors of being "woke." bsky.app/profile/bart...

I mean, you don't sound like you're much of a saint, but you do you

Once we admit to ourselves that we can cause hurt it becomes much easier to be compassionate when we see others do the same.

Where is Christ inviting you to learn to be compassionate this Lent?