After a long season of illness, Thomas is healthy. I think I can say it with confidence. He almost looks like the boy I knew last October. With all of the examining and watching of the previous year, I am quite adept at judging Thomas’ weight by the look of his face. His face gets fuller by the day. His hair is thickening and he might just need to start shaving when it is all grown. Or he could have “skills” as Napolean Dynamite likes to say. He is almost able to run without his feet slapping and his hands are regaining strength. With everything his body endured the last nine months, it is amazing how quickly his health has returned. We are truly fearfully and wonderfully made. It is as if all the vitality and growth were bottled-up inside of him, waiting for the moment to be released. In the dark days of cancer treatment, it seemed impossible that he would ever be the same. He is not the same. But his essence remains the Thomas I knew before, and his changes are of the heart and not the body. His body bears the scars of all he has been through and serve as a reminder and testimony to his struggle. He requested and received a picture of the tumor the surgeon removed, a visual of the life-draining he experienced. I look at it now and can’t believe the size of it nor the fact that it was growing inside of him for months before we knew. And then, I marvel at the life-saving work of the doctors, God’s unlimited grace and feel humbled that my son is walking in health.
This week feels positively endless. I have lived with a lost day (or more) to doctor visits nearly every week since this began. I am luxuriating in the fact that tomorrow is Thursday and I have plenty of time to finish my tasks before Friday. What a treat! I have not gone anywhere except for my kids’ school and lessons. A treasure! My house is relatively clean, relatively being the key word. But I will take it. We even had dinner guests tonight, something I have not had the space for even though I love it. It all feels like a gift and that is the truth to which I am blind so often. It is. It is a gift to be here with all of my children, even when they scream and fight, when the house is a disaster, when I am less than pleasant. It is all a gift. We are enjoying these simple gifts right now. Next week brings Mark’s procedures but for now, we are enjoying what we have.