Over the past few weeks, there has been need and space to feel much of what we have been living for the past year. The emotions are rich and complex.
There is exhaustion and grief from the toll of chronic disease, from the frequent hospitalizations.
There is the awe of two little boys who no longer have sickle cell disease but also the reality of managing their daily care as they continue to heal. We run a not-so-small pharmacy and frequent doctor’s offices often as well as have in-home health services from multiple disciplines.
There is confusion and sadness within our little ones as to why mommy and Geoffrey have to go back to the hospital again. The heartbreaking questions: “Do you have to stay? Again? Can I come too?” The tears which follow.
There is a longing for our home in Kenya and all it represents, but no date of return yet in sight. There is the devastation occurring within my hometown of Redding.
There are deaths to grieve for our wonderful 12 year old whose story is laced with the loss of so many she has loved.
There is also life to celebrate, in the form of birthdays as well as everyday moments.
There is wonder when I consider how far we have come. I mean, really. The miracles we have witnessed in a concentrated period of time. The hoops we have jumped through. The favor and kindnesses we have received. The village which has loved us extraordinarily through this hard and long haul, day after day after day.
There is laughter. There are tears. There is singing and dancing intermixed with moments when I child needs a break from it all and hides in the closet. There is faith, hope and love. A love that welcomes us in our weariness to come and find rest. A love which makes us brave, giving strength in the face of pain.