It is all Melinda’s fault. She sent me the original link to the first blog I ever read, dooce.com. The blog was funny and irreverent, chronicling the life of a mom struggling with postpartum depression and life in Utah. From the beginning Mark thought blogs were voyeuristic, peeking into the lives of people I had no connection with and would never meet. I thought they were an interesting way to learn from others without being in the same community or state. We continued our back and forth about blogs; were they good and a new way to form community or were they a forum for spilling too much information about yourself and people close to you? Isn’t it ironic I now chronicle our journey on a blog??? The irony is not lost on Mark or me. So, for now, the discussion has been tabled and I am a blogger, sharing our family’s journey through cancer.
It is scary to write and share what I have been learning. It is so easy for things to sound glib or trite or worse, sound smug and assured. How do I explain the quiet spaces of the soul or the assurance I have received or the depth of sorrow we have felt? It is impossible. I write to name things. Naming things helps to pin wisps of thoughts and feelings down and hold them. I write to remember; I don’t want to forget what God has done and how He has loved us. I know I will. I will forget my face right after I look in the mirror. This is a record of His faithfulness in the midst of the storm. I write to get things out; journaling has been a recurring yet sporadic part of my life. I always write when things are swirling around me and I need to get the thoughts outside of my head. I write from a place of brokenness and poverty, knowing that everything good in my life is a gift, not of my own making but of His love for me. I know I am not a writer; I write from need. I am so grateful for each of you that reads and keeps us in your heart and prayers.
Again, thank you for journeying with us, for lifting Thomas up.
Thomas went to Suzuki group class with his sisters, did quite a bit of school and practiced today. We usually take Holy Week off from school but it felt like an absolute treat to do school today without any trips to Denver. I am not sure the kids felt that way but I sure did! I even washed my kitchen floor 🙂 Oh the comfort of the mundane!
I’m jumping onto this comment thread a little late, but i can’t miss the opportunity of saying how much I love the happy irony of Emily as Blogger! I love this little window into both the mundane and the profound. You elegantly marry the physical and spiritual worlds in your writing, and it is a gift to those of us who are so far away. Selfishly, it works out really well for me 🙂 Thanks Melinda!
Emily, your writing has become part of my daily routine. A part of my prayer and devotion time is checking your blog, when I wake up and before I go to bed. Thank you for sharing your family’s journey with us. My faith has grown through your consistent posts. Ellen’s reply expresses my sentiments. Thanks for allowing us to walk with you and your family. -Jenni
You don’t sound trite or smug, my friend. Not at all. I love reading your blog and hearing how you are journeying through this. Praying for you all daily. 🙂
Thank you for sharing the journey with us. You are a wonderful writer and convey so many things in a single post. We love you and are behind you. God bless you.
Dear Emily, We need to thank you for all that youve showen us……writing for me was a small release from the darkness of the days either through the cancer with Rich or the time spent with Micah esp during his surgeries and stays at the hospital. Finding the words to fully express the most inner self was hard and yet fullfilling when that happened ….Aunt Jane ,Uncle Jim
I don’t just read your posts, I study them.You are my teacher.
I am so grateful that you have decided to share this with us. To put these struggles and joys, pain and blessings into words for those of us who love you and your family. Mark is a good sport for going along with it and letting us have a piece of your journey. I cannot even imagine how exposing it must feel, thank you for taking the risk, we are here for you.
You are doing such an amazing job. You are a moving writer and an even more moving woman, never once too much, nor smug. This helps all of us to stay connected and remember what is important.
Emily, I can’t describe the journey the Lord’s taken me on through your writing… consistently bidding… trust, grieve, worship. Ellen’s poem describes well the ocean-like patterns my prayers sometimes take for you all. I’m so grateful that you write! In the end, He always leads to worship – the magnifying of His mighty name! His glory is real in your grief. Thank you. Love and prayers-
Emily, ditto what Sandy Maeda said and thats just what I would say.
Thank you, we love all of you so much, lee & Tom
I always thought the mark of a writer was someone who needed to write! Thank you for sharing your experiences, you have taught me so much. Hope your week continues to be a good one. Kisses to you all.
I am glad you write Emily. It is a reminder to me to keep letting those prayers flow, being persistent in asking for grace for Thomas and for your whole family. Thank you!
Considering all the things in my life that are your fault, Emily, it’s pretty sad that blog-reading is my gift to you!! Tell Mark not to hold it against me too much. I read every word you write here with the greediness of a friend who used to like to spend a couple of hours on the phone soaking up your wisdom. (Did either of us ever really have that time?) Thanks for blogging. Your writing is beautiful, of course, because it comes from beautiful you.
I’ve never really followed blogs much, but being so far away, this is how I stay connected with all that is going on with Thomas and the family and am reminded to pray so I, for one, Melinda am grateful for your “gift” to Emily.
Thanks Emily for taking the time to keep us informed of the daily joys & sorrows of your days. God has blessed you with the gift to write. Love getting the pictures & Thomas playing viola for all of us. Praising God for Holy Week to reflect on Father God sending His Son, Jesus dying on the cross for each one of us & giving us Resurecction Hope to be with Jesus forever. Love, Mom Maeda
It is scary and exposing, yes, and it is an offering, a song that we who love you pick up in our hearts and sing as well. He shines in our dark with the most heartbreaking, healing light. That “Word” poem mentioned by Ellen says it so well. Language that is pressed into wordless prayer and just when we think it is a sea without words, words come. And they bless us by their honesty and naming. You are free to share or not but the cost is not lost on us, friend. You’re doing just fine (much more than that) and there isn’t an ounce of smug or trite. You are being remarkably normal. Beautifully real and glorifying the One who holds you in the storm.
I appreciate your transparency, Emily, in all that you write & share. It is an encouragement any time I read – the realness that you reveal. Your words tonight made me think of a poem by Madeleine L’Engle (who as Thomas will recognize – was the author of The Door in the Wall which we just read this week for Challenge class). Words are so useful & powerful and yet at times inadequate & empty – I have found that to be true in this journey with your family these past few months. So much I want to say, but cannot find the words to say – wordless!
Prayers for you all – somedays with words & other days without words,
Ellen
“Word” by Madeleine L’Engle
I, who live by words, am wordless when
I try my words in prayer. All language turns
To silence. Prayer will take my words and then
Reveal their emptiness. The stilled voice learns
To hold its peace, to listen with the heart
To silence that is joy, is adoration.
The self is shattered, all words torn apart
In this strange patterned time of contemplation
That, in time, breaks time, breaks words, breaks me,
And then, in silence, leaves me healed and mended.
I leave, returned to language, for I see
Through words, even when all words are ended.
I, who live by words, am wordless when
I turn me to the Word to pray. Amen.
Thanks for writing and taking the risk to blog! We all are given the choice to travel a similar journey (of faith in pain and uncertainty) at some point in our lives. We can refuse or join the exuberant, risky song of Life. Keep singing. It blesses us to be listening. You are saying it so well and again have written exactly how I have felt of blogging and the limitations of writing, but, the Great Writer takes these words and wings them over the miles much further and deeper than you or I may ever know. God bless you. We are remembering you all.