They are high school track stars and All State softball players. They are big brothers and little sisters. They dream big dreams and have silent fears. They are human, and yet they are superheroes.
They are normal kids with abnormal circumstances. They are fighting for their lives every single day... and I am absolutely honored to stand with them and play even a small role in their battle against cancer, genetic disorders, and the worst diseases you've never heard of. These kids enter the Stem Cell Transplant Unit having already fought long battles with chemotherapy, surgery, and radiation. They are here because it is their final chance for a cure. They are here to press into the hope that this will be the final triumphant battle.
They come armed with their beloved stuffed animals, marshmallow guns, and leopard print bedsheets. They bring their favorite blankets, furry slippers, and photos of their high school friends. Most importantly, they bring their faithful families - strong mothers and tough fathers who have fought this battle with them every step of the way. These are parents who have left their jobs and entrusted their other children into the care of another, so that they never have to leave this bedside. They are parents who work all night at their job and then spend all day at the hospital, having to make ends meet while trying to hold their crumbling world together. And they are elderly grandparents who drove from across the country to be the constant presence when no one else could be.
The diseases in these small bodies are like overgrown gardens with too many weeds, crowding out the good crops. They are ravaged by chemotherapy, like weed-killer that is a necessary but toxic poison. Like soil that is churned, chopped, and raked over again and again, they endure the preparation for planting a new life-giving garden. When the new cells, like tiny seeds, are finally planted they wait. And they pray. There are many days ahead when storms brew and the winds threaten to uproot the new seeds. Infections, like wild animals, come and attack them as the seeds desperately try to take root. But through it all, a miracle happens, the life-giving garden begins to grow, and the weeds disappear. Eventually, the clouds part, and rays of sunshine break out!
Over the past year, I've witnessed heartbreaking times when the garden didn't grow fast enough, the seeds were uprooted, or the weeds returned too quickly. But in the past month, I've rejoiced as I watched five new lives take hold! Worthy of celebration, we honor each individual on the day that they leave the hospital - with a "Breakout Party." After many weeks, and sometimes months, of being isolated from the outside world, they are breaking out of the place that has been their prison and yet their safe haven. The Breakout Party is a time of laughter, gifts, tears, cake, bubbles, and silly string. It is a time for words of encouragement, hugs, songs, and high-fives. And breaking out!
In your own life, where is an area you need to "break out"? Whether you've suffered a small setback or a life-altering tragedy, there is still reason to celebrate the victories along the way. The prison that's been holding you back may have also felt like your safe place, but there is nothing that compares to the freedom of breaking out and stepping into the fresh soil of a life-giving garden.
I'm thankful for the ultimate Gardener, our God who allows painful pruning to give way to new life, breaking out through the soil! "I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing." John 15:5
Breaking out,
L
They are normal kids with abnormal circumstances. They are fighting for their lives every single day... and I am absolutely honored to stand with them and play even a small role in their battle against cancer, genetic disorders, and the worst diseases you've never heard of. These kids enter the Stem Cell Transplant Unit having already fought long battles with chemotherapy, surgery, and radiation. They are here because it is their final chance for a cure. They are here to press into the hope that this will be the final triumphant battle.
They come armed with their beloved stuffed animals, marshmallow guns, and leopard print bedsheets. They bring their favorite blankets, furry slippers, and photos of their high school friends. Most importantly, they bring their faithful families - strong mothers and tough fathers who have fought this battle with them every step of the way. These are parents who have left their jobs and entrusted their other children into the care of another, so that they never have to leave this bedside. They are parents who work all night at their job and then spend all day at the hospital, having to make ends meet while trying to hold their crumbling world together. And they are elderly grandparents who drove from across the country to be the constant presence when no one else could be.
The diseases in these small bodies are like overgrown gardens with too many weeds, crowding out the good crops. They are ravaged by chemotherapy, like weed-killer that is a necessary but toxic poison. Like soil that is churned, chopped, and raked over again and again, they endure the preparation for planting a new life-giving garden. When the new cells, like tiny seeds, are finally planted they wait. And they pray. There are many days ahead when storms brew and the winds threaten to uproot the new seeds. Infections, like wild animals, come and attack them as the seeds desperately try to take root. But through it all, a miracle happens, the life-giving garden begins to grow, and the weeds disappear. Eventually, the clouds part, and rays of sunshine break out!
Over the past year, I've witnessed heartbreaking times when the garden didn't grow fast enough, the seeds were uprooted, or the weeds returned too quickly. But in the past month, I've rejoiced as I watched five new lives take hold! Worthy of celebration, we honor each individual on the day that they leave the hospital - with a "Breakout Party." After many weeks, and sometimes months, of being isolated from the outside world, they are breaking out of the place that has been their prison and yet their safe haven. The Breakout Party is a time of laughter, gifts, tears, cake, bubbles, and silly string. It is a time for words of encouragement, hugs, songs, and high-fives. And breaking out!
In your own life, where is an area you need to "break out"? Whether you've suffered a small setback or a life-altering tragedy, there is still reason to celebrate the victories along the way. The prison that's been holding you back may have also felt like your safe place, but there is nothing that compares to the freedom of breaking out and stepping into the fresh soil of a life-giving garden.
I'm thankful for the ultimate Gardener, our God who allows painful pruning to give way to new life, breaking out through the soil! "I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing." John 15:5
Breaking out,
L
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