Whole Heart Devotion

This day.  This glorious day.  It seemed like an eternity away when we heard that the protocol for treating leukemia in boys required almost three and a half years of chemotherapy.  It felt like we were facing a mountain of days and the only way to get to the top of it was to take one baby step at a time.  Thankfully, we are about to take our last, and most beautiful, step. Today is Camron's final day of chemotherapy at the hospital.  While he will have about ten more days of oral chemo to take at home, the days of getting his port accessed, getting needles crammed into his spinal column, and having chemo ( life-saving poison ) run through his veins are soon to be over.  I wish I could adequately put into words the sheer joy that this day brings our family, but I don't think it's possible. I would love to tell you all about the boy who has been the focus of all of your prayers and support over the past three and a half years, but I'm not going to.  I'm not g

An after-hour phone call from your pediatrician on a Friday night is typically a life changing phone call.  When words like "leukemia" and "children's hospital" are accompanied by the imperative, "You have to go tonight,"  you are then certain that this phone call is most assuredly a life changing moment. When your inquisitive and fear-filled twelve year-old is going back and forth between asking a hundred questions on the ninety minute car-ride and making numerous desperate pleas to turn around and not to take him to the hospital, you wonder how to break it to him gently that his life is getting ready to take a drastic turn. When you steal away to a family bathroom in the hospital with your spouse and fall to pieces in each others arms so that you can stay strong in front of your sick child, you determine in that moment that he will never see fear in our faces. When support comes in the form of dear friends who sleep in waiting room cha

I recently vied for a coveted "Mom-of-the-Year" award when I took my tween daughter to a concert where her absolute favorite artist was performing.  Truth be told, my husband and I felt that the trip was well-deserved as she has sat back and graciously watched her brother receive a plethora of trips, gifts, and attention due to his sickness.  I wouldn't trade that special time with her for anything.  I was surrounded by thousands of young girls singing their hearts out about twiddling their thumbs and doing things on purpose -- just Google " Sabrina Carpenter " and you'll see what I'm talking about! As we made our way to Charlotte that Friday afternoon, I wondered if my little fuel-sipping Prius was going to sprout wings and start to fly.  I was blown away by the breakneck speeds that people were driving down the interstate, giving no attention to speed limits, construction zones, or merging traffic.  To keep from getting run over, I felt the need

If you walk into a Bath and Body Works store, you will become quickly overwhelmed with what seems like an infinite number of scents.  Each scent is transmitted in various forms, like lotions, sprays, hand sanitizers, wall plug-ins, candles, body washes . . . the list goes on and on!   As the vast majority of the population has made the shift from bar soap to liquid body wash, that is one thing that has yet to change in my house.  I suppose that everyone has their "thing" that must remain constant. From Jif peanut butter, to Tide detergent, to Levi's blue jeans, some people are absolutely married to specific brand of household items.  One of my husband's undeniable affections is towards white Dove soap.  He remains completely faithful to his age-old friend, and I don't see this love affair changing anytime soon! I guess we all have our preference in soaps, and from Japanese Cherry Blossom to the white Dove beauty bar, there certainly are no shortages