Wednesday Worship: This Is Our God

Imagine with me for a moment… heart longings.

Adam and Eve. Just banished from the Garden of Eden. They’ve given up paradise in order to have the “eyes to see like God”, and instead they’ve found their own sin, nakedness and shame. And they work. Work that’s never been difficult before, only joyful. Now there is pain. There are thorns that inflict wounds on hands and arms. There is childbirth… the highest of joys mingled with the strongest of pain. And there is the agony of watching one of your own children murder his brother. What must swirl through their minds? And their hearts? The agony of all they’ve given up–for this?

Nursery Rhyme Re-Write

Yesterday after supper, Bri was cleaning up our little two-year-old. During our meal we always share what we’ve learned and done that day, so Audrey was telling her daddy all about what she had learned.

“Daddy, Humpty Dumpty sat on wall.”

“Oh, really? Then what did he do?”

“Had a faaaallllllll.”

“Then what?”

She looked at him quizzically. “He had a faaaalllll.”

“I know. But who fixed him? Who put him back together again?”

“Dora and Boots!”

Hmmmm… is this a sign my kids are spending too much time playing Dora The Explorer computer games?

Delving Into Shower-World

Now that our oldest has decided to go and grow up on me, he’s also shown an affinity for taking showers. Swimming lessons taught him how much he loves to dump water on his head, and showering is an opportunity to be completely covered in water, head to toe. Not to mention it is something his siblings can’t do, and he is always looking for ways to be different from them.

Holding Off Treatment

Yesterday I arrived at the cancer center for my herceptin treatment. (A quick refresher: herceptin focuses on a protein in my cells. That protein, HER2, was present in my tumor. The idea is to kill off that protein in my body. In doing so, it has been proven to reduce risk of recurrence by 15%.) It is a year long treatment which I’ve been having every three weeks since last November, and I’ve been counting down the months, now the weeks, until this is over. “Soon,” I thought, “will be the last one, and I will be done with treatment.” I have held onto Thanksgiving and Christmas as my freedom celebrations to come.