Scary blood test results.
My ten year old son in a hospital bed, crying to go home.
Signing off on expensive treatments that may or may not be covered by our insurance.
Staying in a hotel room, alone, the rest of my family miles away and struggling to do life without me.
Last week was one of the worst in my life, to be sure.
There were so many things that hurt. So many feelings that brought me to my knees in worry and fear. So many storms that needed to be weathered.
It was the worst.
It was the worst and, oddly, there was still so much good.
Real good – not the forced smile, everything happens for a reason, God doesn’t give us more than we can bear good. (Because seriously, this was way, way more than I could ever possibly bear on my own.)
Doctors that amazed with me with their intellect and wisdom.
Caring nurses that were so sweet to my little boy it brought tears to my eyes.
My girls, bringing me cozy blankets, wine and much needed company.
Friends that sent text messages, funny pictures and heart felt prayers.
A mom-in-law who spoiled my oldest son rotten, and cleaned my entire house in my absence.
My husband, patiently walking around the entire house with me via face time, so I could tell him what to pack and bring me for our stay.
A beautiful, unexpected private patio at the hospital guesthouse.
My little boy, struggling and in pain, but getting noticeably better every day.
The chance to carve pumpkins together and bob for apples, something just a week prior seemed impossible.
Yes, this season has been excruciating. And, what I am learning over and over again, is that even in the midst of brokenness, there is so much good.
It’s true – God is close to the brokenhearted. I am a living, breathing example of this.
He has been near in my tears, in all of your prayers, in the smile of my little boy and the tenderness of my husband.
Looking for the good, even when things are bad, matters.
It brings us closer to the sacred.
It acknowledges the vastness of our own lack of understanding.
It comforts, it protects, it saves.
Sometimes, looking for the good, even when it seems like there is none, is the only way we make it through.
As my family transitions slowly back to our new normal, with dishes to wash, baths to take, reading lessons to complete and bills to pay, I pray I remember that the good is there, right in our midst, even when we are temporarily blinded to it.
I am convinced this is the only way to make it through the ugly, and still have any semblance of sanity.
Looking for the good is a daily act of obedience, of faith, and of worship.
Looking for the good is sacred work.