Getting through the unthinkable

We were always the family helping others. And I don’t think I grasped what a privileged position that was until our own family suddenly needed help and prayers so desperately.

I wrote those words several years ago, soon after my oldest brother's cancer diagnosis. I never did publish that post, but here is an abbreviated version, in case it helps you get through your own version of this story:

What do you do when a member of your family is suffering hard? When the suffering turns out to be not just back pain but a diagnosis—one we dare not speak, one that has no cure, one that never crossed your mind?

You take it in. You sit with it. You cry. You pray. You gather your tribe and ask them to pray. You hang on every text and email, every update, every encouragement.

You do things you wouldn't normally do or admit to—for me it was blasting Van Halen's "Ain't Talkin' 'Bout Love." Because nothing else gave voice to my fears, or matched their intensity, like David Lee Roth's screaming guitar on that song.

On a good day, a happy tune comes on in your car and you catch yourself singing along. Then you remember your suffering loved one and feel a twinge of guilt. But it's more than okay to feel joy. In fact, it's absolutely necessary.

(What song lifts your spirits, every time you hear it? Music is such good therapy.)

You learn to cut yourself some slack, because you've been thrown into uncharted waters. You accept that it's messy and don't try to pretend otherwise.

In times of crisis, you also find out who your friends are. They're the ones who meet you where you are, don't need you to pretend you're doing better or worse than you are, and manage to leave you better than you are.

With a friend like that and the help of God, you can get through more than you ever thought you could—and live to be an encouragement to others.