True Grit

I have three exquisite and unique friends, all my own age, who have cancer.

These friends aren't friends-of-friends.  They are my friends.

I define a friend as someone that has invited me into their life and decided to keep me, in spite of myself.   Conversations with such a friend can move from hilarity and glee to tender and teary at the speed of sound.

How lucky to have empathy, companionship, joy, and even suffering, walking hand in hand on the same road together.  It is difficult to untangle the salt and sweet of good friends, a delicious jumble of soul food.

My friends are currently fighting Ovarian, Cervical and Breast cancers.  It is unimaginable that the very female anatomy that creates, brings forth and nourishes new life can be assaulted so suddenly and irreverently.

Each of these women are a force to be reckoned with in their own right.  They embody True Grit, without all the Hollywood.  Now that I think of it, all these women could rock the red carpet, the stage, or any news stand magazine, but I digress...

While each fights her battle in different ways and for varying amounts of time, there is one notable and compelling similarity between the three.  They have let go of the useless and the insignificant, and are pressing on to what is good, right and true.  Their clarity on the essential things of life is honed and razor sharp.

I have much to learn from each of them.

A personal fight with cancer insists that you lighten your load in order to pursue the things that hold real weight.  Issues that were important once, and caused all manner of anxiety, insecurity and bitterness, are seen for what they were, fool's gold.

Instead, loved ones are scooped up and snuggled.  Emails, laundry and phone calls can wait.  Children are cheered for and given much grace.  Sunsets, rainbows and crescent moons are gifts better than a year-end bonus, and family and simple pleasures are treasured like diamonds.

I do not despair for my friends.  I worry and ache and rejoice and pray and wait impatiently with them, but never despair.

They are safe in the hands of their loving Creator in all ways and as always.

To the contrary, I marvel at these women whose lights shine brighter and stronger with each new day.  Sure, they are often scared and exhausted and totally human.  Yet they are brimming over, overflowing, letting go of the useless and hugging tight to what is right.

And the LORD will guide you continually and satisfy your desire in scorched places and make your bones strong; and you shall be like a watered garden, like a spring of water, whose waters do not fail. (Isaiah 58:11)