It hurts, you know.


It hurts.

It hurts to hear that my friends are suffering.
It hurts to hear that radiation is burning their skin.
It hurts to hear that they are throwing up.
It hurts to hear that their parents cannot comfort them.
It hurts to hear that they are miles away from their little sisters for weeks.
It hurts to see their hair fall out.
Again.
It hurts to watch their tired eyes.
It hurts to watch them shake in weakness.
It hurts to see them not even be able to do their homework.
It hurts to not even be able to communicate the pain.
It hurts to be here, when they are there.
It hurts to hold their hands as another child dies.
Again.
It hurts to come home and cry.
It hurts to realize that hardly anyone sees this.
It hurts to realize that those who do know, obviously don’t care enough.
It hurts to miss them at Christmas.
It hurts to walk into their empty rooms.
It hurts to have another piece empty in my heart.

Childhood cancer, it hurts much more than you know.

Childhood cancer, it hurts, please know.

…because love wins.

Standing

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Dreams do come true.


ImageShe steps out into the light. The backstage had been a flurry of hundreds of people milling around. 

“Decker, check. Check. Check.” 

In 2 hours, thousands of people will enter this auditorium. They’ll come from all around the country. They’ll be in the middle of a fight with their wife. They’ll wish their children could do better in school. They’ll have an autistic sister. They’ll be sad. They’ll be hopeless. They’ll be happy. They’ll understand life, or they won’t. 

She stops out there. Says a prayer.

“Abba, it’s not me. It’s You. You have them. You be with them. You dream loud, speak loud, do what you do. I’m just so human.” 

She looks down at her leg. Who would have thought that this piece of molded plastic would lead to a headset, singing on stage, jumping up and down, crying in front of people? Well, surely not she. She was just this little girl with doggies on her footy pajamas sitting on the porch talking to her Father. 

And a tear falls. One tear, as she looks down at her mom, dad, and sister. Front row, always catching a tear, a hug, a smile, a reminder of who she is. 

Who is she that she could speak through an amputation and chemo drip? 

She’s just a human. Who has lost much. And who has everything, because of Jesus. 

She’s a girl who watches His dreams for her come true every day. 

…because love wins.

We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together.


Whether you love her or hate her or hate to love her, Taylor Swift does some things right. And we all love that.

All too often, we as humans clutch the burning stoves that are our hazardous relationships. “It’s not what you think,” we say to our friends. “It will get better,” we tell ourselves through our tears. “He won’t hurt me again,” we whisper as we cover up our bruises.

I’m not sure if everything Taylor tells us is in the least dramatic form, but I do applaud her for expressing that she doesn’t always have to stay hopelessly in like with someone. She, and you, can walk away.

This post is simple. If you are in a bad place, it’s okay to get out. You don’t have to stay with a boyfriend or girlfriend who hurts you emotionally. If you are being hurt physically, the time to leave is now. If it’s marriage, honor it as it should be honored (you are welcome to ask me about this), but know that before that, we are not meant to marry every person on the planet.

You will find food, drink, clothing, friends, and joy. You don’t need that hurtful place to keep you in a familiar cage. Just walk away, join Taylor, and me, in saying, “We are never ever getting back together.”

You have the right to be happy being you.

…because love wins.