On blessings

I ended a previous post about the stress of the past few days with a statement about how we are blessed. Let me elaborate.

My favorite high school teacher (who would NOT appreciate my potty mouth on this blog) was once run over by a bus. He was in a great deal of pain, he drifted in and out of consciousness, and at one point he came too and told his wife he was hungry. She offered him the apple from her purse, the only food she had in the midst of the emergency room anxiety. He told me that eating that apple was the most enjoyable feeling of his life, and that nothing that he's ever eaten has tasted as good as that apple on the edge of his life.

I think that story is beautiful, but until now, I've never understood it (which was a blessing, may you never 'understand' it either). In the midst of the most painful situation of our lives, I've seen such kindness from every facet of our lives, I don't have words. My hubby's coworkers donated six weeks of leave to help him through chemo, friends have shown up with food and done grocery shopping and research and even loaned us a vacation house so we could hang out before all the madness started. Our church has been a constant source of support (one our ministers calls John about once a week. For a congregation our size, I think that's amazing.) I've cried on many shoulders, held many hands (including the feisty grandma of the bride last weekend) and have found myself propped up by dozens of hands (and not in a creepy Labyrinth way). For every sharp pain to my guy that cancer has delivered, I've had a basket of apples to choose from. That basket seems to be bottomless.

That's why I say we're blessed.