Many of us had hoped God would heal Mike Sweeney on this Earth. It was somewhat selfish. We believe, as Christians, that to live is Christ and to die (and be with Him forever) is gain. There was no fear of death itself--it was more the preference that we have more years here with him.

When our Young Life committee hired Sweeney 3 years ago after 7 years of prayer and fundraising, we had hoped they would be here for a very long time. Sweeney & Cabell were a powerful tag team in ministry and in life. Their love for one another so evident and true. The last time I saw Sweeney (Saturday morning) he was a shell of his former self and yet, Cabell stood at his bedside very tenderly caressing his shoulder and gazing at him as if he were the finest specimen of a man she had ever seen. In my feeble human brain it just didn't seem fair. This couple, committed in marriage for more than a decade, separated by death when there appeared to be so much more life to live.

I did not want to see my friend Sweeney suffer with this horrible disease. I did not want to see my friend Cabell lose her beloved spouse at such a young age. I did not want to watch the hearts of our dear college-aged leaders be exposed to the difficulty of losing someone young that you care about. I did not want to feel this old. I did not want to have to watch my precious husband lose such a dear friend.

Because my husband was Sweeney's surgeon, in addition to friend, it has been a very unique journey. I have to tell you that one of my constant prayers for my man is true male friendship. His grueling and unpredictable work hours make connecting with him quite difficult. He is unable to participate in weekly small groups. When he is not working he is committed to being with our little family. Sweeney is the first non-medical man in over a decade to make it a priority to spend time with my husband in a way that did not intrude on family time. Sweeney would come sit with my hubby from 8-9:15 on the nights I was leading Bible Study. It worked great because I was out anyway and the children were in bed. He got creative, inconvenienced himself and pursued friendship with the man I love. It may seem like a little thing...but it was this type of investing in other people that made Sweeney so special.

Watching my husband labor over studies, scans, research, correspondence, etc in an effort to help Sweeney defeat cancer in the last 19 months has made my husband's career choice incredibly personal. I cannot believe these are the types of burdens he bears with families all day every day. He does so with godly compassion, quiet strength and wisdom because God has called him to. Watching it up close...down to the vigil into the wee hours of the morning today...has changed the way I look at him.

I don't want to get on a tangent, but anyone who thinks doctors are in their professions for the money has never walked 24 hours in my man's clogs.

My husband is heartbroken and I really, really hate that.

It has also changed the way I look at relationships. The moments shared as friends and I have labored in prayer for the Sweeneys are truly sacred. There is absolutely no substitute for 'doing life' with other believers. Oh, how the Lord shows His goodness through the tenderness of other people. I hope I never forget the unbelievable sense of peace and protection that surrounded us during the vigil at the hospital the last few days.

And despite all the alternative outcomes that we had hoped for, the bottom line is that through this excruciating journey we all had HOPE. Hope that this is not the end. Hope that we serve a Sovereign God who loves both Cabell and Sweeney (and all the other lives that have been touched ) far more than we can imagine. Hope that we will see each other again. Hope that He has defeated death for eternity.

Legacy

Lots of people talk about living a life that counts...but what does that really look like? We may have a few grand moments in our lives, but the older I get the more I am convinced that REAL legacies are about relationships, authenticity, consistent faith and genuine love.

Two and a half years ago, we lost an amazing friend to melanoma. He was 33. My family & friends remember him fondly. Sweeney was one of the good guys--kind, funny, giving and wise. His widow, Cabell, remains a treasured friend. We tell stories about him and rejoice that the ministry God brought him to our community to establish (Young Life) is thriving.

After 28 months, you can imagine that I was a bit taken aback to receive an e-mail today with the heading "Sweeney." The contents moved me to tears. A blog reader, Whitney, directed my attention to the recent caringbridge post of her friend Teri Jo who passed away today. Here is a portion:

From July 25, 2012:

On March 29th 2010 I found my way to Jesus Christ when Mike Sweeney, my younger brother’s Young Life Mentor died of cancer. Prior to March 2010, I didn’t know what my beliefs were. I always knew I believed in a God, that was the easy part….but everything else wrapped up in Christianity was much more confusing to me. I didn’t identify as a Christian, because I wasn’t so sure about this Jesus character, and I wasn’t ready to understand or commit to something that I could constantly put into question.

 In any case…..Sweeney had battled cancer before in his life, went into remission, and unfortunately the cancer resurfaced after this remission period. I didn’t know Sweeney well, in fact, I may have met him all of 2 or 3 times in my entire life; however, when his cancer resurfaced….I felt the need….the calling to pray for him. I felt the calling to read the Bible…things I never desired to do before. I could feel myself changing….devoting my life to something larger than myself. Throughout this confusing journey, I kept my feelings and callings to myself…as I felt this was something I was needing to figure out on my own.

When my mom told me that Sweeney had passed, I literally felt like I was having a nervous breakdown….as if I had lost my best friend…..a sibling…..a parent. I laid on my bed trying to contain myself….wondering why am I feeling like this? I told myself….”This is a man you barely knew Teri! What are you doing? Why are you so affected by this? You don’t know anyone with cancer? Why is this man’s struggle killing you inside?” And then I experienced the most clearly defined moment of my life thus far—I realized why I was so deeply pained by Sweeney’s death. I realized that I came to know Jesus Christ through Sweeney—I found myself as a Christian through Mike’s journey….and I couldn’t ever share that with him. Jesus worked through Mike Sweeney so subtly….so amazingly….to bring me to him. How could I not be pained by the death of a man who was responsible for the most meaningful relationship there is to have on this earth?

I shared this story with my younger brother shortly after it happened, and since then….I’ve only shared this story with maybe…10 people.  However… now this story plays such a role in where I’m at with my own journey. At the time, I didn’t understand what cancer had to do with anything…why Jesus choose Sweeney’s battle with cancer to lead me to him….but now that I’m facing my own battle with cancer…I understand why. I’ll be honest, I’m affirmed by Jesus Christ all the time regarding my battle with cancer. He constantly reminds me that everything is going to be ok. I have family and friends share stories with me every week….about how the Holy Spirit spoke to he or she…in any number of ways….letting them know that everything was going to be okay. Now for most other people, I feel like these affirmations from Jesus are signs to them that I’m going to get well….or that there’s going to be a cure. For me, His affirmations are not to reassure me that I’m going to live or that my situation will radically change in the future…..no. For me, His affirmations are letting me know….while you may die from this disease….everything is going to be fine….I’m here for you….I’m going to take care of you…..You’re making your way to the ultimate kingdom…and what could be more satisfying than that?" Caringbridge of Teri Jo Reese

I know Teri Jo's brother, Will, but had not known this part of the story until this afternoon. I was blown away by this e-mail and its poignant reminder that even in dying a life well lived to the glory of God can be used to accomplish amazing things. 

I watched Sweeney succumb to disease. It did not seem glorious, beautiful or fair. It was exhausting and sad.  But my perspective was limited. Time has revealed that what was brutal for a season was used for eternal significance in the lives of others. 

Teri Jo is alive in Heaven because Sweeney faced death with a consistent faith. He did not waste his life or his death. And as a result, neither did Terri Jo.

Wow.

Sweeney Update

Today was a very big day for the Sweeneys. I will allow the two recaps I received via e-mail to sum it up. First, from Sweeney's good friend/mentor Tom:

"We got to spend about 4 hours with Mike today in his room in the Critical Care unit of M.D. Anderson Cancer Center. Mike was understandably tired after the past week of chemo to suppress his white blood cells, but he was feeling fairly well today. The most poignant moment for us was when they brought in the TIL cells for infusion. Mike’s doctor, a nurse and the two lab technicians who worked with Mike’s cells were all present for this 15-20 minute event. As we watched the nurse hang the bag with the TIL cells and connect the tube to the port in his vein, we all felt an incredible amount of anxiousness, adrenaline and a bit of awe. It’s hard to describe exactly what this felt like – maybe even a bit of fearfulness. In that moment, as the cells were going in, we all knew, in some sense, “this is it,” this is Sweeney’s best shot left, and that brought a strongest sense of the gravity of Mike’s condition I’ve experienced yet. Then Cabell, Jeff and I all prayed for Mike as the TIL cells dripped into his body and while all the aforementioned staff quietly and reverently bowed their heads. We shared with them that there were several hundred donors who had given more than $200,000 in order to pay for this procedure. They were impressed.

Then they impressed us. The lab technicians told us all about how the TIL cells are cultivated. They initially had about 37 million cells and they grew them into about 37 BILLION. Each cell multiplied by a factor of 1000 – and each of them is specifically hungry for Mike Sweeney’s melanoma tumors. They also told is that they have harvested cells like this in about 200 people but that so far only 23 people had their cells grow in the lab and then passed the next test – that the cells actually kill the tumor cells. So, in other words, only 10% of patients in this TIL therapy trial even get to the stage where Mike is. That’s also amazing.

We left hopeful that this, by all accounts, miraculous moment would have its fullest effect on Mike’s cancer. We prayed that it would and we trust the Lord from here. "

Did you read those numbers? And to think that the God who created and gives life to each of those cells is the very one we are able to access any time we want to through prayer...it blows me away.

And then the following from Cabell:
"So today was pretty amazing. More emotions than even I can sort through. I wish you all could have seen this room. I'll try to describe it. Sweeney in the bed on his right Dr. P Sweeney's melanoma doctor. Next to P was the head of the clinical trial. Next the 2 doctors who have been overseeing the cells in the lab (when I said they had been nursing those cells since mid April, one quickly clarified "Yes, April 13th is the day they came to us.") Then Dr. H, the head of the melanoma department, Connie our nurse for the day, then Jeff, then Tom and then me. All of us with masks and gloves circling the bed. Jeff, Tom and I with a hand on Sweeney- praying. Jeff, Tom and I prayed thanking God for the doctors, for his provision of this treatment, for you our friends who provided it...and of course begged God to use the cells to heal his body. It was all pretty intense.

As soon as the IV bag was empty, Sweeney told all the doctors how even though our insurance denied us God moved in our family and family of friends and raised the money in 3 weeks. They all knew the story already.

One of the doctors from the lab said they have harvested cells from about 250 patients, only about 48 of them have cells grow and respond in the lab, and of those 48, only 23- Sweeney being 24 have been able to receive this treatment. So to say that we are grateful is a failure of words.

When the crowd cleared out Jeff, Tom and I read every name on the donation list, thanking God for each person. All 435 names.

I hope that after the doctors get home and sort through the "that was really, really weird" response, I hope they feel valued, celebrated, appreciated. I hope God reminded them today of why they became doctors. I hope they will consider Christ and why we told God our hope was ultimately in Him and we will love Him even if He doesn't use TIL to heal Sweeney."

I was blown away by the BILLION number in Tom's e-mail, but I am equally in awe of the 435 number. I am reminded that that is only a small fraction of the people who have been following Sweeney's journey. It does not include the literal thousands of people who have been touched in some way by this story.

I am astounded by the fact that while our God is capable of doing as He pleases--not in need of any of our help--He allows us to be a part of the story. I cannot tell you how profoundly I experience the character of God simply from 'doing life' with others. I love that God created our hearts for relationships. Can you imagine life without them?

We don't know how Sweeney's story will end...but I know that I serve the One who does. He is purposeful, all-knowing and all-powerful. He has plans. None of this catches Him by surprise. He created the cells that course through my friend's veins. He granted wisdom and knowledge to the doctors and nurses treating him. He moved in the hearts of hundreds of people to give and to intercede.

He is a mighty, mighty God and He holds the world...you and me...my friends and family...and whatever issue you are burdened with/for...He holds it all in His Hands.

Praying Big

Mondays are typically my 'at home' day to put my house back together again after a weekend full of family fun (translation: mess). Since my Mary Month experiment this Winter, I have been committed to keep this day free from appointments, meetings, etc. and just enjoy the quiet of an empty home.

Honestly, much of this morning was spent crying. I feel like I have had to hold it together all weekend for the sake of my familial responsibilities. My hormones are raging and I just needed a release. So, as I worked on my ever-massive laundry piles I was listening to an Andy Stanley sermon called Asking Big.

Here's just a sampling of the quotes from that sermon that convicted me this morning:
"What are you praying that's big enough to honor the size of your God?"
"The size of your prayers determine the size of your God for your children."
"God is not annoyed by your persistence. He is honored by it. Jesus says He is moved by it. Do you have a tenacity in your prayers that honors God?"

In the midst of all that I got a call from a young man in our community. (True confession time here. Don't judge me.) He called our home phone first. I did not readily recognize the name on caller ID so I let it go to voicemail. A few minutes later my mobile phone started ringing. I did not recognize the number, so I answered it. The young man on the other end of the line introduced himself and asked if I had time to chat. I was in the middle of a cathartic time of weeping and praying, so I told him I did not. I did not know what he wanted, but thought I remembered seeing his name as part of a group in a fundraising letter I had recently received. Frankly, I just wasn't in the mood to deal with a sales pitch--even for ministry. (Just keeping it real.)
But he was persistent.
"I understand, Mrs. Scott. Would there be a better time for us to talk?"
My mind was racing. I decided to tell him I would call him back around 2, when I was on my way to get my children.

Fast forward to this afternoon. I had straightened the house, washed the dishes, tackled the laundry, prayed, talked to a few friends and showered and gotten dressed. I was feeling a bit more refreshed as I gathered my things to head to the school for pick up. I looked at the clock and saw 2:02. I sighed and decided to keep my word and return the call. (Although not with a very good attitude.)

When A. answered the phone I cut to the chase.
"Are you calling about the fundraising letter I received last week?"
"No, ma'am. I am actually calling about something else."
I was intrigued. What on Earth is this stranger calling me about?
"I am calling you about Sweeney."

I don't want to tell stories that aren't mine to tell, but the next couple of minutes were spent with A. explaining how very burdened he had been this weekend over praying for Sweeney, a man he does not know. He spoke of how even this morning during a devotional time he was attending he brought Sweeney's name before the group through tears. Tears, A. pointed out, from a young single man in his early twenties for another man he does not know.

A. told me of how after the devotional time another young man approached him and said, "Sweeney's story is not over. God can still heal him."
These two young men committed to pray fervently for Sweeney. A mutual friend put A. in touch with me to see if it would be possible to go and pray over Sweeney.

I have to tell you, my first inclination was to 'run interference' for Cabell. Honestly, they are weary. This journey has become excruciating. I knew Sweeney's mother was arriving this afternoon and that they were awaiting word on a procedure to help alleviate some of his pain. It 'just so happened' the time these guys wanted to pray was when the procedure was scheduled.

The words from Andy's sermon were fresh in my mind. My fleshly, practical response was in deep conflict with the lesson I felt like God was teaching me. I called my accountability partner, Beth, and asked her what she thought I ought to do.
"You need to hang up and call Cabell."
Just as she uttered those words my call waiting beeped. It was Cabell.

I recounted the amazing story to her and she shared with me how the Spirit was at work in her life over this very thing. How just last night as Sweeney slept she was pouring over the Gospel accounts of all the different times Jesus healed someone. She had recommitted herself to faithful, fervent prayer for His divine intervention and healing.

Logistically, we could not make it work for A. & his friend to come pray at the time they had requested, but Cabell suggested they come to the hospital or go to her back porch. I passed along the message--along with my gratitude for their precious faithfulness and obedience. What love they showed to strangers today!

Just as I got a text from Cabell that they were in pre-op, I got a text from A. that they were on their way to the Sweeney's back porch. Meanwhile, my sweet husband was wrapping up his day in the OR and heading across town to the hospital where Sweeney's procedure was taking place. He was able to be in the room holding his hand and securing his damaged shoulder to prevent dislocation. (I am married to a tender, amazing man.)

As he later recounted the story to Cabell, it was very difficult to navigate the cancer ridden anatomy. Although it was a very experienced and excellent physician at the scope, there were tense moments where it seemed they might need to turn back. My husband was not an attending surgeon at that point--he was just Sweeney's friend. As such, he was praying like crazy that they could somehow finish this procedure. He prayed inside that OR, just as countless others were praying all over the place. Finally, through a somewhat 'blind stick,' the anatomy was cleared, a stent was placed and we all rejoiced at an opportunity for some pain relief for our friend. When Cabell was told this story she remarked at how amazing it was that she was specifically praying through the anatomy of his abdomen. She knows the Spirit led her to pray that way.

As I am typing this, I am cognizant that much of the 'amazing' in this story is getting lost in translation...but those of us on the ground in this fight are incredibly encouraged by the way God showed Himself to still be VERY MUCH in the picture in this situation. Although it may seem like a small thing in light of the severity of our friend's situation, it is a huge reminder of what happens when we storm the gates of heaven with faithful prayers. I am praising God for His compassion. He does not leave us or forsake us. He is full of mercy. Praise be to Him!

And I challenge you to consider if you are praying big, God-sized prayers that honor the BIG God we love?

My family is praying for complete healing for Sweeney in this life. We have involved our children in this request. I am resisting the fleshly urge to make excuses for God in advance, in case He decides to heal him in heaven rather than on Earth. We will not borrow worry from tomorrow. We will pray in faith today. Lord, help me model BIG faith for my children!

Lives Well Lived

In two days I have attended two memorials--both for men my age who loved the Lord with all their heart, mind, soul and strength. Both, too, were remembered as loving their neighbors as themselves. The eulogies delivered for Shane and Sweeney were the type that left friends and family nodding their head in approval and appreciation of the good stewardship these men displayed with the days God gave them.

Today was an incredibly beautiful celebration of Sweeney's life. There were tears, of course. Mostly, though there were stories, laughter, and multiple lessons from the life Sweeney lived on this Earth.

One of the lessons I will carry with me from all of the various accounts shared is the incredible power of paying attention and showing up. Sweeney's life was characterized by life changing friendships. His 'flow chart' of lives that had been touched was dynamic. Everyone agreed, it was not because he had the remotest desire to be a headline maker or a world changer. Instead, he just loved on the people that crossed his path. In Young Life circles we refer to this as 'earning the right to be heard.' Today I heard a young man say that accepting Jesus' love for him was easy because Mike Sweeney had already lived it out in a way that made it exceedingly tangible and easier to comprehend.

My friend Cabell, Sweeney's widow, is a rock star. At the conclusion of the service she stood and delivered a powerful, moving account of her husband's love for her and the profound way God had used it to symbolize in some small way how He loved her. She did so with humor, grace, honesty and beauty. Theirs was a precious marriage. It left me wanting to be a much more humble wife.

I am challenged in a beautiful way to wake up tomorrow and live a life more fully committed to love--not in big Earth-shattering ways, but in seemingly small ways of showing up, serving and displaying authentic, life-changing love for the people God puts in my life.

In this day and age where most of the headline makers are people of scandal, it was refreshing to be reminded how much this world longs for salt and light. These lives were noteworthy because of their ability to reflect God's love in extraordinary ways--through humble, 'normal' lives. Thank you, God, for men who authentically live for you. Thank you for the reminder of the power of relationships and the great fruit that comes from simply listening and showing up.

But what about...

Five years ago this Spring, after a brutal battle with metastatic melanoma, my friend Sweeney died. He was a bright star, full of life, doing meaningful work. To see his life on Earth end at the age of 35 rocked a lot of worlds in my circle.

Sweeney left behind a wife, Cabell, who is one of my most treasured friends.They had a beautiful marriage, a shared passion for ministry and a crazy awesome gift for loving people. As we dealt with the shock of Sweeney's terminal diagnosis and the disappointment that it did not appear God planned to heal him on this Earth, the focus of our fear and concern turned to Cabell.

They had been married 12 years, moved to our town (without any family nearby) because of a call to launch a Young Life ministry here and had not yet had children. As Cabell fought with Sweeney against the monster of cancer, her friends mourned for her too. Sweeney would go to heaven with Jesus, but she would remain here to deal with the loss of her best friend and mate, the death of her fairy tale and an uncertain future.

As my friends & I prayed in those days I asked God, "What about Cabell?" She was a faithful servant. She trusted God with her future. We boldly prayed for a Job-like turnaround for her life. We asked God to heal her heart, bring her another amazing husband and give her the gift of children. This was the picture of redemption we all had for her life. That He would "restore the years the locusts had eaten" with another fairy tale.

That was 2010.

Years have ticked by, a 40th birthday passed and no husband or babies have come. And, yet, we have all been witnesses to unbelievable life, growth, hope and redemption in Cabell's life. In her grief she dug deeper into God's Word. In her sorrow she turned out instead of in--constantly opening her home to opportunities for meaningful hospitality. She may not have been given a husband but she has a huge extended family that loves her fiercely. And the love that has been poured into her has overflowed onto countless others.

I have been blessed to witness the unfolding of her story one faithful, obedient step at a time. As life goes, we can sometimes miss the full, cumulative glory of a story this way...like noticing the growth of your own children that you see daily as opposed to observing it in someone else's from a distance.

Recently, however, a moment happened that demanded that I pause and build a metaphorical altar to the faithfulness of God. This is a story that has become a part of my faith life. I wanted to write this so I (or my children) do not forget.

Saturday, Cabell took the stage at Young Life's Sharptop Cove as the camp speaker, the same stage where Sweeney shared the Gospel while suffering from terminal cancer. He was baptized in the lake there, and it is the final resting place of his ashes. From that stage, Cabell delivered a message of hope despite circumstances to a packed house of over 600 people.

As I sat in that place amidst a group of hundreds of silent, attentive teenagers listening to her share, I was overwhelmed with the echoes of my question to God during the hard days, "What about Cabell?"

I couldn't help but be struck by how my love and concern for my friend's future somehow translated into a distrust of the plan her Creator, Father, Redeemer had for her life all along.

Yet, through her faithfulness, God is using her and her story in mighty ways. So far that hasn't included a husband and babies, but Sunday morning it included 100 high school kids receiving Bibles for the first time--at their request. Their question wasn't "What about Cabell?" it was, what can you tell me about her God?

This experience left a lesson resonating in my soul because, honestly, I have a handful of people I am asking God not to forget about right now...

God, what about the Mama I know whose husband is currently battling a life threatening illness? Lord, what about the mentally ill Mama I know who is fighting hard to hang on? Lord, what about that toddler I know whose Mama is an addict? Jesus, what about that single friend of mine who longs desperately to be a wife? God, what about that friend whose husband just lost his job and faces an uncertain future? (I could go on and on.)

In all of it I hear God say, "I love them so much more than you do. I have plans you couldn't even begin to imagine. I specialize in redemption, resurrection, beauty from ashes. Trust me. I got this."

It brought to mind my daughter's new approach to Christmas. This year rather than laundry list wishes to Santa she asked instead that he surprise her. When I pressed her to see if she was sure she replied confidently, "Yes, he always gives things I love and wouldn't have even thought to ask for."

And so it is with our God. He knows us better than we know ourselves, has an eternal perspective rather than a circumstantial one and loves us beyond our comprehension. He is worthy of our trust.

I realize I have been asking the wrong question all along. Instead of "What about these circumstances?" I should have been asking, "What about our incredible God?"

Kids and Grief

We have been open with our children about Sweeney's disease. As a family we have prayed for a year and a half. During this time, the Sweeneys have continued to be in our lives. The children knew when he was in the hospital and that if God chose not to heal him, he would be going to Heaven.

This weekend involved a bit of 'juggling' the children so that we could be at the hospital. Each time I would return one of them (usually K) would ask, "Is Sweeney in Heaven yet?"

Yesterday afternoon I picked them up from school and through more tears than I had hoped to shed shared the good news.
"Sweeney is finally in Heaven with Jesus."
My sensitive, but matter-of-fact P looked at me and said, "Then why are you crying?"
R didn't say much, but seemed to take the news in stride.
K rejoiced with a trademark giggle and "Yea!"

Last night at bedtime R had a lot of questions.
"Does he have his new body yet or does he have to wait until tomorrow?"
"Can Sweeney see us right now like God can?"

This morning we had our first emotionally difficult moment. P went into his closet and pulled out a purple t-shirt that we wore in last year's Relay for Life.
"I don't think I am going to wear this shirt anymore, Mama. I want to just keep it in my room to remind me of Sweeney."

I told them that I thought that was a good idea and we went in his room to pick out a spot. His first attempt was to proudly spread it on the floor in the center of his room. We talked about other special spots that might work and settled on dressing a big stuffed dog in the t-shirt. I then placed the dog on his bed.

P immediately picked it up and carried it around through the rest of our morning routine. He cuddled it close. When it came time for us to leave for school he insisted on keeping it with us in the car. He wasn't crying, just very attentive and affectionate. He hugged it, talked to it and treated it tenderly.

Once we arrived at school P would not get out of the car without the t-shirt-clad dog. I knew a large stuffed animal would not fly with the school administration. I tried to talk him into wearing the shirt and he refused. "I want to be able to hug it." We agreed that he could take the shirt off the dog and keep it in his cubby.

As I drove out of the school I wept. Love is powerful. Loss is an unfortunate companion. My children are learning that at such a young age. This is not a chapter of parenthood that you dream about longingly as a prospective mother.

When I picked him up today he was wearing the shirt (albeit backwards--"so the part with Sweeney's name will be on the front.") When we got home he took it off without any fanfare. He was perky and never mentioned it again.

A Small Voice

Our bedtime routine involves a quick group Bible story/devotion right before I tuck the children in. Tonight's story happened to be on I Kings 19 when God spoke to Elijah. If you recall the story, He sent a powerful wind, an earthquake and a major fire...but God's voice was not in any of those 'major' occurrences. Instead, Elijah heard His still, small voice after all of the hullabaloo had passed. I wrapped the story up with a quick word to the children about how we must often listen and pay attention to hear His voice. (As a side note, this fits nicely with the theme of yesterday's post...shutting out the competing voices so we have some space and quiet in which to hear Him.)

As the children were settling into their beds, I was praying with R for our family friend Sweeney. He is currently hospitalized in Atlanta as he receives powerful (IL-2) treatment for his cancer. When R and I finished our prayer, P said across the room and through the darkness, "Mom, I think tonight when the girl Sweeney (AKA Mrs. Sweeney) is quiet and going to bed God will whisper to her not to be afwaid. Sweeney will be OK."

Before I was a mother, I would have never believed how God would use these pint sized people to touch my heart in such a poignant, powerful way. Their faith is so pure and beautiful! Lord, teach me to believe the way my children do.

UPDATED TO ADD: As I went to bed thinking about this last night and pondered it a bit more this morning, I couldn't help but think of how it was also a good word for the day after major elections. There has been so much noise on so many fronts for the last several months. I pray that now that the hullabaloo has passed we may be found faithful...listening not to commentators and Monday morning quarterbacks alone, but for God's voice in our lives. Remember I Kings 19 tells us that the reason Elijah ran in the first place was out of fear and intimidation. Remember what God said, "Elijah, why are you here?" Then He reminded Elijah that He was still in control and had a plan.

My candidate did not win, but it is not my job to grumble and question God. It is my job to pray, trust, seek His face and His still, small voice.

For a great perspective from John Piper, check this out.

Team Sweeney

Tonight we attended a Relay for Life event as a part of a surprise team for Sweeney. Our local Young Life leaders are predominantly students from a nearby college. They decided to have their team dress like Sweeney, which consisted of YL attire, khakis, fleece pullovers and his signature red hair.

Here's R, not so sure about that hair spray...
Cabell and Sweeney's 'surprised' faces as they arrived to find our crew cheering. They just arrived home from MD Anderson in Houston this afternoon.
A classic shot of my P...just enjoying the event.

We have talked a lot about cancer in our family. Last year one of our dear babysitters fought and defeated throat cancer. As a result, the children do not seem to fear cancer, as their first experience ended so well. They do know (as a result of the survivor lap at Relay events) that everyone does not beat cancer.

Last week when K said, "Mama, can kids get cancer?"
I told her they could.
"What happens to them? Does God make them better?"

I have been told by a few other Mamas that death and dying are popular topics of conversation at this age. So far, none of our conversations have hinted at any fear about such--just curiosity. K asked several days ago, "Will P & I die and go to Heaven at the same time?"
"Oh, I don't know what God's plan is, honey. Our whole family could go to heaven together, or it could be years apart when we are all very old."
"I don't want to go without P, Mama. He is my best friend."
"I know, sweetie, but Jesus will be there to meet you."
"Actually, Mama," she said, "I am just really afraid of going up that high in the air and want P to be with me to hold my hand."

Faithful

Six years ago this month my husband and I visited our town to interview for his current job. We did not know anyone who lived here, except for a couple of folks who were friends of friends. We had no family connection--but the location (near-without-being-within Atlanta and within 3 hours drive of both sets of our parents) was appealing. The practice seemed like a great opportunity for my husband and we quickly felt connected to this town and its wonderful people.

Because time off during a surgical fellowship is quite rare, we had scheduled the interview during a layover on a return flight to Virginia from a conference in Hawaii. We had been on a red eye flight that arrived at 5am with a fussy 5 month old in the row behind us. Upon arrival, we had a whirlwind tour around town, the clinic and the hospitals before returning to our hosts' home for a dinner party with 4 couples. (One of whom wound up being our next door neighbor!) Although most of that visit is a foggy, sleep-deprived memory, I can vividly remember asking our prospective senior partner's wife whether this town had a Young Life ministry.

Young Life had an important role in both of our testimonies and we longed to give back as involved adults wherever we settled. We learned that this town did not have a ministry, but that a small group of determined people had been praying and meeting off and on for a few years.

When we moved here we joined that small group, becoming the 4th couple. Within 6 months of meeting, praying and fundraising all four couples were pregnant. New babies put a bit of a kink in the momentum, but within a year new momentum started building with the addition of 4 other committee couples. One year later, enough money had been raised to hire a staff person and start recruiting and training college leaders.

Sweeney arrived, 18 leaders were trained, relationships were built and tonight the first Young Life club ever held at a high school in our town is taking place in my neighborhood. My friend Sweeney, who has stage IV metastatic melanoma, is enthusiastically playing guitar and leading club. His wife, my precious friend Cabell, is down front manning the overhead projector with song lyrics on it. Two dozen high school students are hearing the Word of God proclaimed in a unique, exciting way. God is faithful.

Jessica, the committee member who has been involved longest (praying since she was a college student in this town 10 years ago) delivered her second child yesterday, so she was not able to be there in person. I snuck in the back of the room and snapped a couple of flashless pictures to send on to her and the other committee members.

This afternoon as I was praying about tonight I was struck by the intermingling of so many lives in how this has all come to be. Two weeks ago, Sweeney was in a hospital bed suffering through a miserable treatment aimed at eradicating his cancer and saving his life. Tonight, he is vibrant and strong--serving God with everything he has. Three years ago, Jessica had been praying for this ministry for 7 years with nothing to show for it...but she persevered and is, tonight, enjoying the joy of a new baby and a vision for ministry realized.

As I was sitting outside the club room (trying to take pictures without intruding) and watching through the glass, I teared up. My soul was firmly rooted on one truth that I know for sure. God is faithful. He IS faithful.

I can remember a frustrated conversation I had with God a few years ago...asking Him why He wouldn't make this ministry road a little smoother. We are trying to get the Word out about your love, Lord. Can we get a little help here?

His ways are not our ways. His thoughts are not our thoughts. He is very much in control. He just doesn't operate on our timeline.

Next week Sweeney goes back to Emory for scans to determine if the treatment is having any effect on his cancer. Today, for the first time, I was able to honestly thank God, in advance, for whatever those scans will show.

He is our Creator, Our Sustainer and the Lover of our Souls. He is worthy of our trust.

Cancer, from a Kid's Perspective

I have wondered how my children would be affected by the loss of our family friend, Sweeney, this past Spring to melanoma. He was in his mid-thirties, fun and vibrant. They did not see him as we typically understand sick to look--elderly, feeble or in a hospital bed.

Other than the loss of our cat (within a month of Sweeney's passing) they had no prior experience with the loss of someone they knew. We spoke openly with them about the severity of his illness. We prayed for a miracle. We cried when he passed away--even as we rejoiced that he was healed and whole in heaven with Jesus. All things considered, they handled it very well.

Within a few days of Sweeney's passing, we also lost our friend and personal accountant--another young man--to cancer. The children did not know Shane, but they knew that Mommy & Daddy went to two funerals in two days because of cancer. They had surprisingly few questions--and God truly seemed to squelch fears I assumed they might have about someone else they knew getting sick.

A couple of weeks ago we attended yet another funeral. This time it was for a colleague of my husband's who had cancer. Because this man was not at all a part of my children's lives I said very little, just that they would be with a sitter while we went to a funeral.
"Did he die of cancer?" K asked.
"Yes, he did," I replied.
"That's always what happens," P said.
It stung my heart.
I am quite sure I did not know the word cancer until I was at least twice their age.

Shortly after that we participated in a ceremonial tribute signing of a structural beam for an area cancer center that it currently being built. The children signed in memory of Sweeney and in honor of our family friend, Ms. Jean. Today, I drove them by the facility so they could see the beam in place before the next stage of construction covers it up.

"Why are they building another hospital anyway?" R asked.
"It is a cancer center," I told him, " People who have cancer will go there for treatment."
"That is so sad," P said.
"Why do you say that?" I asked.
"People get cancer. It is just so sad. They get cancer and die."
Again my heart twinged.
"It is very sad. Cancer makes people very sick. That's why they need good doctors and medicine. They don't all die, babe. Look at Ms. Jean. She got better...and Nana. Nana has had cancer 3 times and she is almost 92."
Very matter-of-factly P said, "That's called a miracle, Mom. When people get cancer and God makes them all better it is a miracle."

It all seems so heavy--this type of afternoon conversation with Kindergartners. I am so glad they let me into their world to talk about how they are processing things. Time with my children--absent the intrusions of electronic distractions-- and the conversations that unfold are the richest parts of my motherhood experience.

He's Writing the Story

In November 2003 my husband and I flew into town to interview for his current job. As we enjoyed dinner in his future boss' home, we inquired about various aspects of the community. I specifically remember where I was standing in their kitchen when I asked, "Is there a Young Life ministry here?"

The answer was No.

When my husband and I learned that there was a group that had been meeting and praying off and on for a few years, we joined them. Within one year, the four couples who were working to establish a Young Life presence were all pregnant. With six newborns between us our meetings became less frequent.

In the midst of our pregnancies we were informed that there were openings at a weekend outreach camp if we wanted to send any students. A member of our little group was a middle school teacher. She handed out fliers and in one week's time we had a busload of 30 students signed up. At that point, we had raised less than $5,000 toward the lofty $40,000 goal needed to hire a staff person and have a 'real' Young Life ministry. The decision was made to send all those kids to camp (most of them required full scholarships) even if it exhausted our funds. It required almost everything we had saved, but kids made first time decisions for Christ--so it was worth it.

One of those kids now serves as a Youth Intern at our church. God chose to use that weekend camp and the follow-up discipleship one of the men on our committee invested in him to make the difference for eternity! Now I. is evangelizing and discipling young men. Amazing!

When our trio turned one we received a card notifying us that friends had contributed to Young Life in their honor. Because they had only lived in our town for a few months and YL had no local presence, we were surprised they knew to contribute to that particular ministry. They didn't know. They had their own connection to the ministry of which we were unaware. Suddenly they joined our group, as did three other couples. With renewed momentum and enthusiasm, we raised an entire annual budget for the ministry (double the original goal) in less than a year.

In March 2007 God brought Sweeney and Cabell here to serve. Under his leadership more than a dozen volunteer leaders were trained, we took kids to weekend camp, established weekly club/outreach meetings. In October 2008 he was diagnosed with stage IV metastatic melanoma. In March of this year cancer took his Earthly body.

Yesterday our new Area Director and his wife moved to town and assumed leadership of this ministry...just in time to take our very first group of kids to weeklong Summer outreach camp in Colorado.

So many twists and turns have happened in the journey of Young Life being established here. There have been a great many times I have been so confused about why God would allow it to be so hard. I mean, after all, we are trying to bring the Gospel to disinterested kids! What could be wrong with that?

I am constantly learning how God always has WAY more in mind that what our feeble brains can grasp. That kitchen I was standing in when I inquired about YL almost 7 years ago changed owners a few years back. It is now the home of my accountability partner and dear friend (who also serves on Young Life's local governing committee). We interviewed Sweeney in her living room three years ago.

There were only 4 couples at that initial dinner. One of them was my friend, Emmy, who is now my next door neighbor and the Mom of two of the students who will be on that bus tomorrow. In the morning, Emmy, Cabell and I will have the honor of driving 7 high school students and 4 leaders (plus their luggage) to an exit off 75 to meet a bus from another area. We will drop them off for a trip that will undoubtably be one of the most incredible weeks of their lives.

Oh, and the bus they are taking to Colorado will 'ironically' be shared with students from my hometown (where I came to know and love this ministry). Their recently appointed area director was Sweeney's very best friend.

I have so much emotion over this milestone in this ministry. I am so sad that Sweeney isn't going to get to see this tomorrow. Yet, I cannot deny the dozens of things that point to God's Sovereign hand being ALL OVER this.

So, I wait with bated breath to see what He will do next.

Grown Up & Glad

Artists, authors and armchair philosophers frequently celebrate the wonder, beauty and simplicity of being a child. We speak of the innocence and faith of childhood with sweet wistfulness. There are many times in my life that I long to recapture some of the idealism and lack of responsibility/worry that I possessed in my youth.

This afternoon, however, I couldn't help but think about the things I really like about being an adult. My thoughts were prompted by the afterglow from my husband's 40th birthday party last night. It was an intimate gathering of dear friends. Our incredible entertainment was provided by Drew & Ellie Holcomb. We had dinner, wine and easy conversation around the fire before settling into the sofas and chairs to enjoy great music by amazing artists. I am not exaggerating when I say it bordered on a holy experience as the women and men gathered laughed and cried while Drew & Ellie sang lyrics about life, love and loss. I am finally old enough to really understand what those lyrics mean.

One of the more poignant moments of the night came as they performed "Live Forever," the song used for the slide show at our friend Sweeney's funeral last Spring. On several occasions Sweeney sat on those same sofas for Young Life meetings and gatherings with friends. Last night Cabell was there physically, but the memories of Sweeney were too.

Other songs with lyrics about fear, loss, pain, love, commitment prompted me to think of our beloved friends in the room. These are the people we are 'doing life' with--I know their stories and they know ours. We can rejoice in each others' times of peace and plenty because we have walked through the fire of the times of loss, pain and want.

As I looked around at the women in that room I was so thankful for the gift of friendship. It is interesting to watch my children explore the first few chapters of friendship and compare that to what it looks like 30 years later. BFF looks quite different at 6, 16, 26 and 36. The bonds of years of shared life experience--the happy, but also the challenging, are so sacred and beautiful.

Towards the end of the evening, a group of us were talking about authenticity in relationships-- how once you have experienced it you don't want to go back. The older I get the less patient I find myself with trivial conversations about surface things. I want to go deep and discuss things that matter.

I could have never imagined as an adolescent that I would enjoy adulthood so much. It is certainly not simple--but the complexity, the depth, the richness of all those layers are are gifts for which I now find myself (surprisingly) grateful.

Joy Joy Joy

Last night the Sweeneys came over to have my husband take a second look at a report they had received from his scans. My hubby concurred with the radiologist from Emory...and today two other radiologists came to the same conclusion: the brutal IL-2 treatment Sweeney has been undergoing for his Stage IV Metastatic Melanoma is working.
The odds of his particular type of cancer responding to treatment was less than 10%. Yet, in his case, it is really working. As my husband often says: It is not the numbers that matter, but what side of them you are on. His primary mass has been reduced by 30% and the 7cm mass that was on his small bowel a month ago is NO LONGER visible. This is God's hand at work! This is a joyful reminder that God is still in the miracle business.

And this Mama--who was so worried about having to 'answer for God' if He chose not to save our family's friend-- got to sit in our family room last night and tell my children that God had heard our prayers and was healing Sweeney's body.

The heaviness and worry that consumed us when we first learned of our friend's illness has been replaced by joyful, light-hearted laughter. Psalm 126 makes sense to me all over again:
" It seemed like a dream, too good to be true, when God returned Zion's exiles.
We laughed, we sang, we couldn't believe our good fortune.
We were the talk of the nations— "God was wonderful to them!"
God was wonderful to us; we are one happy people.
And now, God, do it again— bring rains to our drought-stricken lives
So those who planted their crops in despair will shout hurrahs at the harvest,
So those who went off with heavy hearts will come home laughing, with armloads of blessing"
Psalm 126 (The Message)

Sweeney returns to Emory Monday for another difficult round of treatment--but with the reassurance that it is paying off.

As I pondered all of this today, it occurred to me that I wanted JOY to settle in and take residence in my life the way sorrow, worry and concern had a few months ago. I want my waking and final thoughts to be those of joy. And when I wake in the middle of the night, why is it always by concerns rather than joy?

Christmas seems to be the most appropriate time of the year to learn this lesson. God was truly Emmanuel to our friends as we have walked through this dark time. His presence has been felt. He has been our source of strength, help and comfort...and now, to HIM be the glory.

As we walk through these next couple of days may we center our thoughts on the miracles of our lives. There are so many circumstances we all are experiencing that bring worry, sorrow and pain. But, let's reframe our perspective--if even for the next 48 hours and choose joy.

We serve a risen Savior who humbled Himself to come into our world as a helpless baby, born to young, unimportant, frightened, challenged people in a stable. His love for us is a miracle.

Joy to the world, the Lord is come!
Let earth receive her King;
Let every heart prepare Him room,
And heaven and nature sing.
Joy to the World, the Savior reigns!

May we allow joy to trump sorrow in our lives!

Love notes

It has been 4 1/2 weeks since our friend Sweeney passed away. I haven't really written about Cabell out of respect for the fact that it is her story, not mine, to tell. I pray that God one day leads her to share this part of her journey in a written form. She is so incredibly gifted as a writer. She is also wise and in tune to the heart of God. She will undoubtably know when and if the time is right.

In spending time with her and watching her I am blessed beyond words at her amazing grace and faith in walking through this difficult, heartbreaking chapter of life. I am learning A LOT.

Interestingly, the area of my life that seems to be benefitting most is my marriage. I have been so blessed to share life with a true partner--but watching a friend lose their spouse has made me TREASURE mine. It has been so sweet to see the things Sweeney left behind for Cabell, namely handwritten notes. In her home she has a few scattered around--the most poignant are not Earth shattering--just small affirmations on index cards or Post its.

My husband and I are pretty faithful to send each other little notes throughout the week...but they are almost completely via e-mail or texts. Although they get the point across, there will be nothing to physically hold years from now to remind me of those sweet words. I am, admittedly, not a 'saver of things' but when I see those notes from Sweeney to Cabell it moves me.

I want there to be tangible evidence of my heartfelt feelings for my man. As a result, I have become recommitted to the written word. It requires a little extra effort. Sending a text or placing a call certainly seems more efficient. But this seemingly 'small thing' is important enough to expend a little effort over. 

From my hand to his heart...

Choosing Joy

I came across this old post tonight while looking for something else and it took my breath away--mainly because I had watched an amazing PSA about melanoma earlier then scrolled down to see a healthy looking Sweeney. (If you have been reading for a while you will recall that he eventually succumbed to metastatic melanoma in April of 2010).

As if the photo weren't enough, I was very convicted by the words I wrote accompanying the post. Cabell & Mike had just received a great report when I wrote it. Friends and family breathed a collective sigh of relief. We rejoiced that Sweeney might get his miracle--healing of his body on this Earth rather than in Heaven.

Three years later, my heart is burdened by other heartaches. Even tonight I have been asking God how to pray for a couple of friends who are in DIRE places. I was convicted by my own words:

"It occurred to me that I wanted JOY to settle in and take residence in my life the way sorrow, worry and concern had a few months ago. I want my waking and final thoughts to be those of joy. And when I wake in the middle of the night, why is it always by concerns rather than joy?

Christmas seems to be the most appropriate time of the year to learn this lesson. God was truly Emmanuel to our friends as we have walked through this dark time. His presence has been felt. He has been our source of strength, help and comfort...and now, to HIM be the glory."

And three years later I am learning the same lesson...joy in ALL circumstances.
Joy that Sweeney is whole and healed in Heaven.
Joy that this Earth is not our home and not the final chapter in our lives.
Joy that God has a plan that differs from mine. (gulp)

I must also choose to remember that Jesus was called Emmanuel--God with us. He is with us in the joy and with us in the pain. His decisions not to intervene in the ways we expect Him to are not a reflection on His love for us...they are a reflection of our difference in perspective and our lack of trust in His ways and His plans.

Ouch, again.

Mary would likely have not written her story the way it turned out: Virgin, impregnated, disgraced and forced to tell a story that sounded ludicrous...riding a donkey great distances in the final days of her pregnancy, delivering her son in a stable amidst the livestock...watching her son grow up and leave to bear an enormous burden we cannot comprehend, standing by as he was brutally murdered by the very ones He came to serve and save.

No, it is not the story she would have written...but it is the story she obediently lived out. The history of the world was changed because she submitted to God's plan.

"I am the Lord's servant," Mary answered. "May it be to me as you have said." Luke 1:38 (NIV)

It is not documented that she whined, complained, lamented or rebelled. I imagine that's why God chose her.

May it be for us as well.

Go Read This Now

I know many of you are already following Sweeney's caringbridge, but if you are not I implore you to please go read it tonight.

I have said it before and I will say it again: What a privilege to know these two. They are 100% the REAL DEAL. Their faith is authentic. I promise you will be challenged and moved by Cabell's beautiful words tonight.

I was able to go by the hospital this morning for just a brief visit before Sweeney was discharged. I couldn't help but laugh with joy when he was sitting up in bed reading the paper. Most encouraging was Sweeney and Cabell's countenance. The support they are receiving, the faithful prayers--are incredibly encouraging. THANK YOU for praying. Keep storming those gates!

(If you came over here from caringbridge, the post Cabell wanted you to read is below.)

Lessons From a Wedding

There are a lot of wonderful things about being involved with the ministry of Young Life. It is such a blessing to see God at work in the lives of the 'target audience' of high school students--but one of the richest rewards for our family has been the special relationships we have developed with the college students who serve as leaders. It is amazing to watch a young person mature from an 18-19 year old college freshman to a young adult/college graduate.

Our family has a particularly special bond with the group of leaders who graduated from college this past Spring. This group was selected and trained by Sweeney. They kept the ministry going during Sweeney's frequent absences as he battled cancer. We walked through mourning his death together and rebuilding the ministry. We traveled to the Dominican Republic together last Spring. We have watched as they mulled graduate school versus entering this difficult job market. We have done real life.

Yesterday afternoon we witnessed the wedding of one of our special long time leaders, Taylor. She & I share a passion for social work and have served side by side at the group home. She has been a frequent babysitter to my children and a special friend to me. I have loved walking through her courtship with Harris through our coffee dates, prayers and excitement as it became clear he was 'the one.' It was a treat for my family to be asked to serve as greeters at their wedding.

It was so touching to watch the wedding through the eyes of my children, who recalled many of the elements of the only other wedding they have attended. P was all about our role as greeters. He loved the responsibility of handing out the programs to arriving guests. R was obsessed with what the groom might do to the bride during the 'cake fight.' And, K? She was 100% all about the bride. She has never been overly interested in princesses, so it was surprisingly touching to see how transfixed she was by the bride. She was quite simply captivated!

As I watched K watch the bride and take it all in--I was so thrilled that her exposure to courtship and marriage was so Christ-centered. I listened with new ears to the words spoken during the ceremony. During the pastor's homily he made a great point. He wished the new couple lots of laughter, but he also wished them their share of tears--because, he acknowledged, it is the tears that will be the reminders of their need for Christ. The tears, when shared together and before the cross, will be the circumstances that draw them close and sanctify them.

As I am watching marriages close to me crumble, I am reminded of this truth. I wish we as a society did a better job of presenting the total package of marriage (not just the extremes of Disney fairytale or sarcastic sitcom fodder).

In a Christian marriage there is the security of the covenant vows we make to one another, there is the joy of sharing life with your best friend, there is the peace of knowing someone is always there as your #1 fan...but LIFE still happens, the rains still come and fairy tales are never without their crisis moments. I wish young couples knew that when these choppy waters are navigated together with Christ at the helm they can be amazingly strengthening--and the source of great lessons about the person of Christ.

The beauty of marriage is not in the avoidance of conflict, but in the overcoming--and we can't do that alone. The Lord is our champion. We must allow Him to be at the center of our marriage--and have our unions be characterized by fruits of the Spirit: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness and self control.

Two are better than one,
because they have a good return for their labor:
Though one may be overpowered,
two can defend themselves.
A cord of three strands is not quickly broken.
Ecclesiastes 4: 9,12 NIV

Extravagant Love

Yesterday morning our precious friends, the Sweeneys, left their cozy home in the darkness of 5am for a journey back to Houston's famed MD Anderson. Monday Sweeney will begin a grueling cancer treatment regimen that involves tearing down his immune system in order to rebuild it with turbo-charged versions of his own cancer fighting cells. He will be isolated to protect him from the slightest germs which could be devastating. This process will be followed by high dose IL2 (which, for the record, is much more grueling in real life than on Grey's Anatomy) and chemotherapy.

My amazing friend, Cabell, will sit by his bedside watching and praying and loving him through his illness.

This treatment, although more effective than chemo and recommended by all the national experts who were consulted, was not covered by insurance. Our friend, a Young Life missionary, had to have $200,000 in cash ($120,000 up front) in order to begin the treatment. Because we serve an incredible God, $230,000 was raised online through word of mouth in only 3 weeks time. Read that again...$230 THOUSAND in 21 days...that's over $10,000 per day.

Truly, extravagant love.

Sweeney was quarantined the last week, so we couldn't really 'see' them before they left. Cabell made arrangements for a little surprise for a few of her friends in her absence. We had special instructions to go TOGETHER to her back porch. Because the five of us have 15 children between us, it was decided Saturday morning at 7am would be the easiest time for us to pull off.

Armed with coffee, baseball caps and make-up free faces we met this foggy morning with the bittersweet realization that we were going to our friend's home and she wouldn't be there. While we were enjoying being together, she was several states away gearing up for a life or death fight with her husband against stage IV metastatic melanoma.

We were greeted by a brightly colored note of sweet thanks for our support stuck to her back door. (And yes, we were already teary at this point.) There were instructions to get a cleverly hidden key and go into her dining room. There she had prepared a glorious, festive Christmas table. Each place setting was hand-painted by Cabell, personalized with patterns, designs, initials and names unique to each of us. And there was another note...telling us where each of our 9 other place settings were boxed up.


My first thought was: "Seriously? This is too much!" I thought of the countless hours it must have taken her to prepare this. The hours she spent painting, firing, packing, preparing. How many weeks must she have been secretly conspiring to blow us away with this gift?

And then I thought of what I know to be true of my friend. She LOVES creating, giving, surprising. No one forced her to do this. Her extravagant surprise was because she loves us and WANTED to do it.

It is a trait she got from her Father. He, too, longs to give good gifts to His children. I love that from the moment sin entered our world way back in Genesis, He was at work with His Plan to restore us through the gift of His Son.What joy He must have had as He thought through the logistics...a young, unknown girl...a simple carpenter...a stable...a star. They'll never expect this.I am about to blow them away.

Extravagant love. Undeserved, unexpected, lavishness from a heart full of love.

I tend to be much more practical. Just the word 'extravagant' makes my chest tighten a little. Then I think about the way Jesus reacted to the extravagance of Mary of Bethany. I think of the extravagance of His Grace.

I am still trying to understand what this looks like in 'real life.' But walking through this difficult season with close friends has taught me a lot. The one thing that seems most needed in this situation is absolutely out of my hands. I cannot cure my friend's illness. All I can do is love them with the love of God through the process. I am helpless. God is not.

After we squealed and oohed and ahhed we talked about all the ideas we had for loving them back. Then we started with the best one we could think of--sitting crossed legged in their living room floor begging the Spirit to intercede. We prayed the lavish love of our Father would continue to be poured out on them as they were in Houston and thanked God, in advance, for the way they would impact the doctors, nurses and patients they would encounter.

Lord, may it not take such difficult, heart-wrenching circumstances for me to be one who loves others extravagantly!

"Let me give you a new command: Love one another. In the same way I loved you, you love one another. This is how everyone will recognize that you are my disciples—when they see the love you have for each other." John 13:34-35(MSG)

Wow!

It is almost midnight (which is about 2 and a half hours past my bedtime) but my mind is reeling and I had to stop and write this down. God showed up in a HUGE way in my life today. I don't want to forget the way my heart feels right now.

Ten years ago I spent a 'work weekend' at a new property Young Life had recently acquired in North Georgia, called Sharptop Cove. It was a tired old Baptist camp that the ministry planned to make 'the next Windy Gap.' Windy Gap is an amazing camp I had visited in high school nestled outside Asheville, NC. Let me assure you, this property in Jasper, GA was a far cry from Windy Gap, but we worked all weekend, clearing brush and cutting down trees for roads to be cut--and we prayed. We prayed that the vision of a premier Young Life camp in this location would come to fruition and lives would be changed.

Fast forward 5 years, when my husband and I (dual income, no kids) moved to our small town and joined a small, committed group praying for Young Life to start a ministry in our town. Within one year, the four couples on our committee had seven babies. Momentum was lost.

Three years ago, God showed up in more ways than I can recount in this post, a significant amount of money was raised in a relatively short time. Almost two years ago we were able to interview and eventually hire a real staff person (Sweeney) and start an 'official' Young Life area.

Two years ago my husband and I attended a committee retreat weekend at the beautifully restored Sharp Top Cove. The vision of transforming the old camp had been realized. During our weekend we spent time face down on the floor of the main 'club house' praying for the countless high school students who would sit in those seats one day and hear the Gospel.

Tonight I sat in that very room surrounded by 19 college leaders and 2 dozen high school students from our town--and Sweeney who is leading the trip, even as he continues to battle the Stage IV Metastatic Melanoma diagnosis he received this Fall. Even more beautiful is that our group of 20+ students was made up of boarding students, local private school kids and kids from the group home (including J).

As I looked at the way God had pulled together years of life experience, ministry and most importantly prayer---all in this one moment---as the Gospel was being presented. It was almost more than my heart could take. How can His Sovereignty be questioned?

I don't want to forget this moment, but I also don't want to take for granted the countless other moments that are yet to come. May we not forget that God's timing is so very different than ours! All the waiting was nothing compared to that moment tonight when there was no other explanation but the Provident Hand of God.

When I walked out of the clubhouse into the crisp Winter night air, my eyes couldn't help but be drawn straight up to the clear star-laden sky. My heart could not be help but be drawn to awestruck worship. He is amazing. I am in awe of our infinitely creative Creator and the mind boggling way He weaves the world together in His unending pursuit of us.

King David went in, took his place before God, and prayed: "Who am I, my Master God, and what is my family, that you have brought me to this place in life?... What can I possibly say in the face of all this? You know me, Master God, just as I am. You've done all this not because of who I am but because of who you are—out of your very heart!—but you've let me in on it. 2 Samuel 7:18,20 (The Message)

To God be the glory!