Recently I was hanging out with a group of elementary school aged kids, including my son. One of the girls was looking at me (and my turban-ed head) sideways and finally mustered up the courage to ask me,
“What’s that thing on your head?”
I bent down, you know the way you’re supposed to when you’re talking to kids. As I was about to explain to her how Adriamycin kills off the body’s most rapidly dividing cells first, which inevitably leads to hair loss….my son Andy interrupted with:
“Her hair got so long, she had to cut it.”
He moved forward between the little girl and me, then slowly turned back around towards me, while the girl and her friends lost interest and resumed their game.
He saw my jaw gape wide open. He shook his head an inch to the left, and then to the right. Real quick, so no-one would see.. “Quiet mom, I’ve got this” his face told me.
Now, I’m not condoning lying. But can I just say that I wanted to chest bump my son in that moment?
And if it weren’t for my tissue expanders, I would’ve. I swear I would’ve. Sticking up for his Momma like that, I couldn’t have been more proud.
Andy & I haven’t talked about it since, and I don’t think we will, at least for a few years.
7 year old boys like to “talk” like I like to clean toilets.
My 3 babies are trying to hold this hot potato called Cancer. Trying to catch it for their Mamma, but juggling it’s sting. So they watch us looking for clues, and we point them to Jesus.
“Did you know MayMay, that Jesus’ love is soooo wide and long and high and deep? That you can’t reach the end of it? And that there’s no single detail that affects one of His precious children, that is outside of His sovereign control? Yes! It’s true! It’s right here in Ephesians, let me show you. “
So we let God slip into our lives with His oven mitts, and he cools off that hot potato for us. Then He brings us some sour cream, and butter and salt. And now all of a sudden that thing that burned us is warming up our bellies from the inside, sustaining us and giving us joy.
That’s how He works, and I call this cancer a gift.