Jello et al.

There's an urgency to keep telling the ways that people are blessing me - to write them down so that my own mind and heart can assimilate these kindnesses and learn, but also so that anyone who reads this can know that there is a lot of hope when creatures of the image of a relational God extend compassion.

As I sank into the couch after work, savoring a few minutes at home alone to unwind before Sam and Julian arrive, a knock on the door was a neighbor bringing Jello cubes made with extra gelatin for protein. 'Might be easy to eat when you feel sick,' she explained. Another neighbor is bringing dinner soon. Another neighbor will watch my child tomorrow morning when I meet with the oncologist. A friend who's a nurse brought a doctor from her floor to have dinner with me last night so that I could ask more questions and hear more information. Another friend emailed to ask when she could bring a meal, and she already introduced me to her college buddy who survived Hodgkins. Everyone is saying my hair looks cute no matter what they think, and I get emails and gchats and texts of encouragement nearly every day.

A mind wants to jump up after each of these kindnesses and give back: write a note, plan a date, do something. But a mind (mine at least) needs to learn to quiet down and receive in times of need. I will receive with peace now, and I will be happily bound to give with cheerfulness when it is my time to do so, and that is good. 

Hodgkins is a mercy. How else would I see so well some of the ugliness of my heart that needs dragging out into the light for forgiveness and change? Christ died so that our sins would be wiped away - why keep hoarding mine?