When Bad Weeks End With Good Friday

It was April 19th, eight years ago, when I got the phone call confirming my doctor’s suspicions: cancer. 

"I'm sorry," she said.

Holy Week and cancer. How could it be?

I was at my friend’s house planting flowers on her deck. She had just come home that day from her own double mastectomy surgery. 

Surely lightning doesn’t strike in the same place twice. In a strange way, that’s sort of what I was counting on. Two friends and in the same Bible study, breast cancer couldn’t [wouldn’t] touch both of us in this same season, right?

I was wrong.

My hands deep in dirt. 

My heart in my throat.

And my fear was all around me when I saw the doctor’s number appear on my phone screen.

Yes. Cancer. I’m sorry. 

Stumbling up to her bedroom, I put my head in her lap and we wept together. 

That was my April 19th. Diagnosis day.

It’s been 8 years since that phone call.

Those unpleasant words resulted in my own double mastectomy and a lifetime supply of tamoxifen, but what i want to tell you about most on this Good Friday morning all these years later is how much more it brought. You’re not ever going to hear me say cancer was a blessing, but there were blessings in it.

Easter weekend followed a few days after my news. I had grown up in church and always loved Easter. Always thought I understood it pretty well. Always got the whole Good Friday grief and Sunday rejoicing thing. The cross, the stone, the empty grave. I got it. I did.

But that year, with new cancer stamped hard on me, Easter felt different. Our family stood worshipping in the Verizon Amphitheater for the Passion Good Friday service and it’s probably the closest I’ve ever felt the heartbeat of Jesus. Eight years later, I can’t quite remember the band performing or the exact songs we were singing, but, being broken wide open that week, I felt the living presence of Jesus stronger than ever before.

Though our week had been bad—devastating, in fact—Friday was still good. So good.

The cross of Jesus is always powerful, nothing can add to it or subtract from it. But our connection to the cross becomes different when we are in those suffering places of fear or pain or brokenness.

We cling.

We cry out.

And the cross truly becomes everything.

"For our sake, He made Him who knew no sin to be sin, so that in Him we might become the righteousness of God." ~ 2 corinthians 5:21

It’s been 8 years. I am healthy, cancer free and grateful. Later today, everyone will start arriving home for this Easter weekend. We will all be together and I can’t wait. Life isn’t perfect. We aren’t without our struggles, but, gosh, it’s pretty normal and, for this moment, kind of nice.

But here’s the question to which I keep coming back—

Why does it take such suffering and struggle for us to identify more fully with our Savior’s sacrifice? Why must we be so broken before we are able to break free from the numbing quality of our somewhat normal lives?

I know none of us would trade places with those in deep pain, but isn’t having a deep and real hope what we all want? What the world wants? What we long for?

We all like normal and kind-of-nice lives. Of course we do. I do. I get it. And I kind of would like this season to continue. No surprises. No diagnoses. No disasters. But, here’s the deal:  I don’t want nice and normal to mean numb. My cancer path changed me and I’m glad it did. And though I don’t ever want to hear that word again, I do want it to continue to change me. I want to continue being desperate for Jesus. I type that and I almost delete because I know what I’m asking. 

I want Good Friday and the cross and Easter Sunday and the empty grave to mean everything to me and to those I love.

I don’t particularly like the painful, long-suffering places of this life. I wish there was another way. I wish someone could figure out how to bottle up a brutal diagnosis or a devastating day and we could get the result without having to walk the fiery path of suffering. But, we all know, it doesn’t work that way.

And I don’t fully understand. And I probably won’t this side of heaven.But I am fully thankful that my Savior continues to lovingly draw me closer to Him. 

He came and He died that I might live. This life, as much as I like it and want to hold on to it, it really isn’t everything. Regardless of how much we are able to wring from it, it has only so much to offer. It’s the cross to which I must cling. The cross. The cross. The Wondrous Cross.

When I survey the wondrous Cross

On which the Prince of Glory died

My richest gain, I count but loss

And pour contempt on all my pride

See from His head, His hands, His feet

Sorrow and love flow mingled down

Did ever such love and sorrow meet?

Or thorns compose, so rich a crown

Oh the wonderful Cross, oh the wonderful Cross

Bids me come and die and find that I may truly live

Oh the wonderful Cross, oh the wonderful Cross

All who gather here by grace, draw near and bless Your name

Were the whole realm of nature mine

That were an offering far too small

Love so amazing, so divine

Demands my soul, my life, my all

Oh the wonderful Cross, oh the wonderful Cross

Bids me come and die and find that I may truly live.

                   - The Wonderful Cross ~ Chris Tomlin

The Wedding

The Wedding.
when we hear this phrase it tends to bring to mind one of the big and famous soirees we hear about in world news. something royal and well-appointed. a much awaited event. something which holds us captive to our screens, our news feeds and our little girl dreams.

i mean, who isn't enthralled with all that pageantry and princess stuff?

but not if it's your daughter getting married. i assure you, the renowned royal weddings are easily replaced.

enthralled or not, none of that comes close to the feeling a parent has watching her own daughter walk down the aisle.

we aren't anywhere in the ballpark of royalty, but that doesn't mean our girl didn't look exactly like a princess on that unbelievable day. and as mother-of-the bride, it was definitely the closest i'd ever felt to something like a queen.

what an absolutely amazing thing to witness the wedding of one's own child.

especially when she and her guy both love Jesus. i can't imagine anything better. it's what we long for ... hope for ... pray for.

we had a wonderful photographer and plenty of paparazzi, but i do wish, however, someone else had been there to cover the event and put words to it all. even afterwards--surprising as it might be--i've felt a little bit speechless.

so, yes, this post is a wee bit overdue. i couldn't agree more. i've had a few friends ask "when are you going to write about emily's wedding?" i've stepped around that question best i could. i've attempted weak answers. but those of you mamas that have already walked in my mother-of-the-bride shoes. well ... you know.  you understand.

we celebrated the wedding of emily and austin last summer--july 28th--and here it is the following march--eight months and a new calendar year-- and i have yet to share pictures or a post on this blog.

heck, i helped emily plan her wedding in (way) less time than it has taken me to string together my words about her wedding. due to some tricky scheduling with austin's officer training and flight school, we had about eighty-some days to pull it all off. 80 days sounds like a long time when you are 6 years old and waiting for christmas morning, but when it comes to wedding plans, not so much. the details might have had to come together fast, but the memory will be one i cherish forever.

i suppose i can try to blame the whirlwind wedding itself for why it has taken me this long to write a simple blog post (clearly, i'm still recovering) ...

or ...

MAYBE it's because watching your first born (or any born, i suppose) walk down the aisle just isn't simple.

MAYBE it's because our amazing photographer (christina pugh) took well over a thousand pictures and i don't know how to choose just a few. i love them all. christina's talent is truly unreal and she was a dream to work with.

MAYBE it's because the talented floral designer, martha mcintosh, created so much beauty with the bouquets and table arrangements that every time i try to decide on which pictures to include i find myself overwhelmed with her stunning work.

MAYBE it's because i have a million things to say about the wedding weekend, but can't quite find exactly the right words. i'm not entirely sure they exist.

MAYBE it's because watching your little girl grow up and get married is like no other event you've ever had to capture in a picture or contain to a post. it just pounds away at your heart in an unbelievably precious way.

it's just too big.
too beautiful.
too wonderful.
too everything.

i guess that's it.

i guess that's the reason it's march 25th and i'm only now able share with y'all a little bit of emily and austin's day.

perhaps at some point i will update this post with some profound thoughts about watching a daughter say "i do," but in the meantime, i'm going to go ahead and just share with y'all a few (or fifty) of my favorite photos. and in a very non-blogger way, limit my words.

they say photos are worth a thousand words anyway. let's go with that.

emily and austin, even 8 months later, we couldn't be more excited for you two as you begin your life together. what a celebration it was. what a love you've been given. what a future you have. we have been blessed to walk with you and, though with  new roles in place, we are so grateful for the chance to continue.

we love you both so much.

"therefore a man shall leave his father and mother and hold fast to his wife, 

and they shall become one."  ~ genesis 2:24

that bouquet! @martha mcintosh

these bridesmaids are my daughter's girls, so therefore, they are my girls. i love them all. i'm so thankful for the sweet friends in emily's life who stood with her on her wedding day: maclaine, annika, caroline, kaitlyn (austin's sister), mattie and clayton. and of course her two sisters, bella and sarah.

a big shout out to emily's new mother-in-law, lynne! what a gem she is.
i couldn't be more thankful for this woman and how she loves emily as her own daughter. 

perimeter church.
so special for emily to get married where she's grown up going to church and school.
i am truly thankful for our fantastic wedding coordinators, jan and suzanne,
who made sure everything went smoothly.

recently a friend asked what was the best part of throwing a wedding. after the joy of the actual event,  it was the people---the friends and the family who came to help us celebrate. i mean we spent a lot of time and effort deliberating over the colors and the flowers and the food, but it was seeing the people in the church and at the reception which truly took this mother-of-the-bride's breath away. with my extended family scattered across the country, this event brought us all together and it truly was sort of the cherry on top of all the wedding joy. this picture above of my sons escorting me to my seat captures the emotion i felt when i walked into the church and saw all of those faces we love so dearly.

the atlanta athletic club orchestrated a reception which captured emily and austin's (though mostly emily's - haha) vision completely! coordinators lisa, kelsey and julia were an unbelievable team. they made everything about the planning feel easy and fun. we can't say enough about these exceptional ladies and how great it was to work with them.