Waiting.


Fifteen years ago today I was in a cold hospital, waiting to start 49 weeks of chemotherapy. If there was one thing that I got good at while sitting in the hospital, clinic, or that year, was waiting. Not that we ever get good at waiting, I suppose, but I did get more accepting of the reality that time moves as it does.

When I have been healthy in my life, time has flown. As soon as it gets hard, I have the flu, or I have a cancer check-up, I wait again. And it’s hard.

But I’ve learned, that the waiting can be a wonderful time to know myself, and to know Jesus. That while I want something I deem good to come, it is already here. If I’m waiting, I’m already running the race for Jesus.

And I’ve learned that chances are, the waiting is time for me to rest. So just like I rested before a battle for my life, I’ve learned to always wait, serve, and live.

I’ve learned we’re never really waiting – what we want, we already have.

His name is Jesus.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ozjzeQ9oiSM

…because love wins.

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Heartbreak.


New ThingsSometimes it seems like everything hard is happening all at the same time. Do you get that? Do you know what that feels like? When you lose someone?

When you lose yourself?

This has been one of those years. Not just a day, or a week. It’s been a brutal year. Loss of people, loss of places, loss of security, loss of knowing. I’ve been way way way down. I’ve cried more than I’ve ever cried. And I’ve learned again the beauty of coming up. I’ve laughed more than I’ve ever laughed.

I feel alive. More than ever.

Last night a friend of mine called me after having a hard week himself. He doesn’t really know it, but his own bright spirit in the midst of a breaking down is enough to remind me that I have climbed up the hill. That I have more muscle, and that while I’m not to the top of the mountain yet, that this climb is beautiful.

Heartache is a mountain.

And your heart is a muscle. I say that a lot, after hearing it performed live in a song with a friend who has also been through great loss, and I learned that it’s true.

Heartbreak isn’t real. Our hearts our muscles, growing stronger as we climb. They don’t ever just…break.

Today marks 15 years since the day I was told I had stage 4 bone cancer. I remember the day like it was this morning. My heart races when I think of it, and I remember how afraid I was. I thought my heart couldn’t possibly beat again.

But here I am, 15 years later, even after a rough year, standing, looking up at the mountain, and smiling as I take one more step.

Just let the light come in. I promise you deeply, friend…this is not the end.

…because love wins.

My leg, for you.


I never met the man to whom I gave my prosthetic leg, but his name is Francisco. He lives in Nicaragua, and because I had rotationplasty, he was able to use one of my old legs to walk – all the way across the world. 

You know, we’re not made for anything but to hold one another up.

Walk strong, Francisco. It served me well – and now it’s yours. 

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…because love wins.