Joy, as defined by Webster’s Dictionary, is the “state or feeling of great happiness”, as if the only way to find joy is to top the scale of happiness. If that were the case very few of us would ever find “Joy”. Maybe in the truest sense of the word, very few of us do.

I remember shortly after my dad died Eric and I, along with our four small children, were out “joy” riding. There is something about dirt roads that sing to me. They are the sweetest lullabies that draw out the deepest of hidden memories and unfurled dreams inside of me. Something elusive makes me yearn for the courageous and reckless spirit of dirt roads. The woods, in all their mystery and fortitude, stand guard and hold their ground at the very edge of this “path” that has been purposefully and rebelliously cut through them like winding scars. And oh my! What an olfactory buffet. You can smell dirt from the newly planted fields. Or fresh water on newly cut grass. The jasmine calls in sweet fragrance as it drapes graciously over fence rows. And honeysuckle as it hangs in trumpets of honey gold from overgrown trees. The children are singing and laughing as they bounce around in the back of the slow moving truck. Eric and I are holding hands, saying little as random dogs bark and chase our tires. And I am thinking of my dad. Missing him so much I can hardly breathe. And then it hits me. This thing so slight but solid hits me out of the blue. In the depth of my sorrow and grief comes this awakening of the moment, unfolding in heaviness but quickness before my very eyes. I look at my tenderly held hand and the back seat full of our love manifested in dirt smeared, giggling faces. Out of the midst of the belly of grief blooms not pleasure or happiness but rather the whisper of an indescribable idea or reality. I sense it in its beauty and depth and am instantly confused but grateful by its presence. It can only be described as J O Y. It only came to rest like a butterfly, but as it lit, I was filled with a desire so great and so overwhelming I knew it did not come from me. The reality of it sits within me to this day, some ten years later.

Joy is different from any other emotion. So much is the difference that I would say joy is not an emotion at all and therefore cannot be associated with the “height” of an emotion. Saying that joy is the “state of great happiness” is like saying a big hill is a tiny mountain. In the description you may have been referring to scale but missed the majesty of the greater, thus reducing the true nature of the most grand to a thing that could easily be handled and explained. A mountain is seen as a creation of grandeur and glory. To use in comparison the mountain to a hill will only reduce the notion of the mountain, not elevate the reality of a hill.

To my understanding, joy and happiness are not to be pieced together, to do so will only reduce the glory of joy to merely just” a good time.”

Bitterness, pain, sorrow and grief are all emotions. And, in my reasoning, an emotion cannot overcome another emotion. Pleasure can replace pain, but as soon as pleasure is gone the pain will immediately come back. The emotion of bitterness, pain, sorrow and grief can only be overcome by joy. I have been plagued by these emotions this past year. I have felt the depth of a broken heart and have contended with the emotions that ravage the tender soul like swarms of hungry and careless locust.  I have been crying out for J O Y! But the mystery of joy is that you cannot achieve it or find it like you find pleasure, comfort and happiness. The awesomeness of joy is that it finds you. The secret of joy is to recognize it when comes to rest upon you. God said His kingdom is a place filled with righteousness, peace and joy.  Thankfully, He did not say happiness. Who would be happy to die on a cross? What kind of God would expect it? But like righteousness and peace, joy is not achieved. It is given. And it is given in the most bitter of natural circumstances. That is the goodness of God for my sake! (And for the sake of my hurt and ravaged soul.)  In a heart filled with peace and righteousness, the reality of joy comes to rest. It matters not that I am not happy, or that my soul is tormented. In fact I am finding that it is these times when I sense most clearly the touch of joy. With tears on my face, in the bitterness of heartfelt pain, my God answers me. He gives me a reality bigger than my temporary being. He gives me…  J O Y. 

The glitter has fallen
And I with it.


Sparkles of white, silver and gold,


Subdued to hues of blue, black and red,


Platitudes, latitudes and longitudes,


You are sure of where you stand, of where you stood.

But, it is not the stand nor the stance but the bow.

The bow, the bend, the break,

Broken, face down, humbled, contrite,
Melted soul poured thin but deep.

Deep is revealed down low, on callused knees,

Truth and grace gather in still places, solemn moments,


Head and soul breathe dust, wind bends the mind,
Spirit and heart inhale heaven, Fire refines the life,


Sight perfected in meek reflection, senses gained,
Strength attained in buckled knees, Wisdom summoned,

I stood…Sure, confident and steady

Blurred, dull, full of fantasy


With glittered abrasion I fell…broken, dizzy and sorrowful

Awake, sharp, full of clarity

Forehead, face, shoulder, belly, knees, toes… laid flat...kissing the ground
Sight, healing, understanding abound ….heaven touching earth.

As I remain...Bowed Down

Grace’s birthday is coming up next Sunday, October 6. The week before she went into hospice she was making plans to visit Florida with her friends to celebrate her 21st birthday. In her heart, spirit and body she fought for life every day. She never used cancer as an excuse for anything!! (Except maybe to get an indoor dog!! ) This story is a tribute to her life and the inspiration she was and is to me. This Sunday I will celebrate her birth, giving thanks to God I had the blessing to know Grace, love Grace and be changed by Grace!

The story of Grace is an amazing story. Her story is filled with hope, love, faith, and courage. After battling sarcoma cancer for 9 months she stated her faith was just as strong then as it was in the beginning. That statement was made just one month before her passing on May 9, 2013. I am here to say her faith was stronger, but not only that, her smile was broader, her face shone brighter and her eyes were clearer after battling hard for nine months than when she first began her journey. In her end, she was not diminished but bursting with glory at her mortal seams. Grace was transformed during her battle into a person I am sorry I did not get the chance to spend a my lifetime with. As her body became weaker and more and more sick, her internal life force became stronger and more and more sweet.

I would be the first to say this awesome and amazing dear young woman changed my life.  Living with Grace I was in the front row seat of her life and watched as her story was played out before my very eyes. We laughed together but we did not cry together. She never saw the need to cry. As far as I know, she never shed a tear for herself or questioned the reason of “Why me?” One thing she could not stand were eyes of pity. She never pitied herself and didn’t understand or receive pity from others. She was a warrior through and through. While she knew inner strength and resolve and had the patience of self restraint enduring great pain, she readily admitted she did not see what all the fuss was about when people told her they admired her faith or that she inspired them. She just lived her life the only way she knew how. But what those words of affirmation and adoration added to her is unexplainable. She knew the strength she had did not come from her but from her God and from the people rallying around her. I watched her face light up as I read cards from people of the community saying they were praying for her. The light radiating from her face was unmistakable as people told her how much she had inspired them; and I watched as she walked on a little taller and fuller after hearing the words, “You have made a difference in my life!”. It was wonderful to behold the beauty of inspiration unfolding before my heart. It was amazing to watch the cycle of people being inspired by Grace who was in turn inspired by them and the momentum went on and on.

It is for this very reason Day of Grace-“Inspirational Day” has been the burden of mine and Eric’s heart. We saw firsthand the power and value of inspiration. What we experienced as a family, we would like for everyone to have the opportunity to experience. We should not wait for tragedy to dictate the time to express our heartfelt thank you’s or I love you’s. This is a day to let that person or people know they have made a difference in our lives. It not only feels great to say thank you and be reminded of the inspiration but it also is a wonderful thing to hear thank you and be encouraged to continue on in strength.

On October 7, 2013, please send a purple rose to the one who has inspired you that they might know of the difference they have made in your life. We have learned it is the simple acts of kindness that restore our hope and give us strength to carry on. Expressed love and goodness remind us we need one another. Grace left behind a great legacy of inspiration and hope. And I am thankful for her life every day.  

I thought I heard Cancer laughing as I stood there crying…

He was taunting me as we stood vigil outside her surgery room door. I thought we traded her reddened scars, blonde hair and sickened time on the bathroom floor for his promised vanishing act.

I thought I heard Cancer laughing as I knelt there praying…

The stench of him filled my nostrils as I offered my humble prayers for her strength and healing. We stood as one unflinching and empowered from Above bound together by the cords of love.

I thought I heard Cancer laughing as she lay there dying…

But this time it was my sweet Grace laughing and the joy of her heart filled my own. She stood strong in the One who gave her Life. Never would she be a victim or an excuse just pure love, effervescent joy and unexplainable peace.

I thought I heard Cancer laughing as I stood there weeping…

But this time it was my weeping that had turned to laughter when I realized my sweet Grace had just traded her cancer ravaged body for a brand spanking new one. Her time of suffering was over and all her pain was gone.

I thought I heard Cancer weeping as I stood there laughing…

In the end all he got was a used up body while Grace gain Heaven. I laugh harder through my tears and pain knowing Grace won and I will see her again.

I thought I heard our voices and our banner raised high. Never will we give in! Never will we give up! We stand together and we fight!

It seems I cried the entirety of last week! It started Monday with a wonderful group of hearts that allowed me to give them a glimpse of Grace. The tears continued….on and on….Tuesday and Wednesday. Thursday was no exception. A dear friend and I travelled all over our great community Thursday promoting the Day of Grace and I had the pleasure to encounter many people who talked about our dear and beloved daughter.

The tears wanted to come but I tried my best to keep them away. I so desperately wanted to hear everything these dear fellow citizens had to say about Grace’s life and her impact on them personally.  Some talked openly with me. Some walked carefully and tenderly, not wanting to rush in and cause tears. Others wiped their eyes while I wiped mine. My cup was being filled up.

It is amazing how empty you can feel one moment. When I say empty, I mean that feeling of being utterly alone, feeling small, hollow and insignificant. Teetering on the brink of despair you draw yourself up into the furthermost corner of the darkened room of your soul, willing the thickened air to cover over and erase you like a hand wipes over a chalkboard and all memory of what once was there is not only forgotten but absolutely irretrievable.  Pain and tragedy can take a person to rooms like that.

But then, with something as simple as a smile or a kind word of another person, your spirit lifts.  When I say lifts, I mean the feeling of having a hundred pound weight cut loose from the ropes wound tightly around your chest, blood and life fills that hollow cavity of your chest once again and you experience the warm glow of the beat of hope. You actually feel the gentle breeze of the wing of a smile itching at the corners of your heart and slowly your mouth. And when you realize what that person has truly given you, you feel that smile dance and float its way to your eyes. That is when you know your soul has been released from that darkened prison and given permission to breath in the sweet air of freedom and you realize you have been given the honor of being truly touched by the kindness of another person.  

You have felt their impact and you become full again…your cup becomes full again.

To me that is what this week was all about. I am acutely aware with every fiber of my being of the loss of Grace. And still the pain of losing her is at times more than I can bear.   At the end of the day Thursday, after an emotional roller-coaster ride of a week, I came upon a poem that really summed up how I was feeling. I found it as I was sitting in the City Hall of Lumber City waiting to speak with the Mayor.

I was sitting there soaking up the stillness of the room and the lovely conversation I was having with my dear friend. During the quiet moments, I was rehearsing in my heart every word said to me that day, every hug offered to me, smile given, every tear shed. And it was like two tsunamis collided within my chest, heart and thoroughly throughout my being. The violent overwhelming sense of extreme loss and grief was met with the fierce force of human kindness, love and care. My cup was filled up. It is only after experiencing the deprivation of choice that you truly understand the value of freedom.

The same is true of inexplicable loss and grief. Anyone who has experienced disheartening tragedy knows the value of the hands that bring the fragrant ointment of comfort and healing.  I sat there feeling all these emotions and that is when I read the poem that brought pointed clarity to the churned mixture of memories new and old, notions that make my heart conflict with my head, and feelings that are too deep and sharp to fully comprehend. I understood that at the end of the day, after all is said and done, when my grief is weighed against my blessing, I can honestly say, “I am drinking from the saucer because my cup has overflowed!” **

There is no doubt true healing only comes from above. To experience the love of the Father, to know His love, fills the heart to overflowing and the soul can’t help but be glad. He made us and He knows exactly what we need, spirit, soul and body. As great as our God is I have come to realize, He is not enough. I know that sounds odd. Please bear with me.  He is God, our Father, and of course He is enough. But in His extreme love for us, His thought is MORE not just “enough”!  In His wisdom and perfection, He gave us the gift and light of each other.  His design is that we would not be alone.

His commandment was that He be FIRST! Not that He would be our all in all and not need one another. 

It is easy to get caught up in our everyday lives and forget the divine purpose placed within us. By God’s design we are needful to each other. The kind word spoken or the warm smile offered is no small thing. To the person dwelling in the dark corners, what may seem trivial and small is actually a window of light and hope. Within us is a contained treasure chest of wealth we cannot understand.
 
I look into the faces of strangers who are telling me about Grace, wiping their eyes and I know they cannot understand what they are giving me. It is a treasure more precious than gold. In that moment I am humbled by their kindness. My cup overflows. The light of their words and actions has pulled me up and out and I thank them, to the best of my ability.

I thank my Heavenly Father and I know I am now drinking from my saucer because my cup has overflowed.

As I sit here now, going back over my entire week, Friday was just like Thursday. Another dear friend sent me a picture first thing Friday morning of our Trojan High School Football Team’s helmet. And there in a gold circle is the name of our Grace. The image of that golden circle with her name on it worn proudly by those players still reverberates in the depths my mind and heart. The dear friend and Coach both tell me the players are honored to wear her name. But it is I who am honored. So much love and kindness has been given to me and my family. My cup is filled up once again. Many tears run unchecked down my cheeks but these are not tears of grief but of genuine thankfulness. My cup is running over. The existence of my life has changed with the passing of our Grace. She taught me so much through her life and the ones around me have taught me so much through her death.  You have taught me the importance of kindness and the value of what our words and actions can do inside a person. Because of you I am humbled and honored to say,” I am drinking from the saucer because my cup overflows!”  **(Drinking from the Saucer Poem ~ Author Unknown)

Before we headed to Hilton Head after Grace’s funeral, Eric and I decided we and our children would go to Grace’s graveside. I didn’t want the graveside to become a taboo place or for it to become something placed on a pedestal that would interfere with our sight of our Father and His healing power and comfort. We gathered around her place and looked at all the beautiful flowers. We each took a rose from the arrangement the kids sent, grabbed the two pandas sitting amongst them and headed on. The baby panda sat on the dashboard the whole time we were gone. The larger panda was passed around throughout the vehicle. I kept the five roses in a vase on the kitchen table until we left. Then I gathered the petals and brought them home. She wasn’t with us on that first trip, and it was hard, but her presence was felt with every rub to the tiny dashboard panda or with every squeeze of the bigger panda or the sight or sniff of the roses.

Since then, Eric and I visit Grace’s grave site every week, sometimes several times a week. We both comment that we don’t know why we go, she is not there. Not the part that truly matters. Her body is there, just six feet below our feet. There is no way to convey the bizarre and surreal feeling of your child’s physical body to be so close and yet her be so very far away. I told him I thought it was more the thought of, “Grace, baby, you may be gone but you are not forgotten. We love you still and we make time in our day to remember you!” It has become a special time for Eric and I to sit together in peace and re-affirm our love and commitment together. I usually end up in his arms weeping while he holds me close. I wipe his tears away as he in turn wipe mine.

“In sickness and health, through life or death.” Of course I added that last part. When I was taking my marriage vows of course I couldn’t see down the road to the death of a child, our first-born child. These are the roads you discover and navigate together. The commitment to the vows we made almost 23 years ago, now encompass more than just me and Eric. The vows have stretched themselves out to cover over our precious family. Our children were born underneath those vows. “In sickness and in health, for richer or poorer till death do us part” has become a strong yet tender, impenetrable yet flexible, fierce yet comforting tent we live under together, as a family.

I could continuously say thank you for days and days but never say thank you enough to cover all the goodness and kindness we have experienced from this community, our family, friends and communities beyond! Eric and I are grateful beyond measure! Thank YOU!!

And, I could boast of Grace for days on end and never say all she is! …Grace continues to struggle for life but she is fighting so well. She still exudes nothing but grace, peace and confidence in her faith and in her God. It is humbling and inspiring to watch her faith in action! She is not lying in her bed, moaning and groaning, expecting God just to hand her a miracle. She is doing her part, even to her own hurt. She continues to throw-up but tries to drink and eat what she can, although it is very little. Certainly, it is not enough to sustain life. But, knowing the pain and nausea eating or drinking will cause, she still continues to do her part with a smile on her face and over-whelming kindness in her heart. Simply amazing!

She knows the tumors continue to grow, so much that she looks like she’s a few months pregnant but she is anchored in the fact she knows she will be healed. As I talked to her yesterday and told her how much I know her Heavenly Father is proud of her, how I know He is looking at her with a smile on His face because of her faith, tears streamed down my face. She asked, “Why are you crying Mama?” That is a very good question. I am overwhelmed with the love of my daughter, how proud I am of her, how pitiful her body looks but how strong her faith is. I have talked to my Father and confessed my weakness of not understanding her pain and suffering and wanting to be frustrated. But in an instant, when I thought of Grace and the goodness and love for her Father (with never and complaint or frustration in her heart or on her lips) I had to repent and simply ask, “Father, let me see like Grace sees!” And to His nature, His goodness shone down on me and I was lifted up in praise to the One who created Grace and loves her more than Eric or I possibly could. Sometimes it’s easy to inspire the ones who do not live with you. The ones who do not see the good, bad and ugly of behind closed doors. But let me be the first one to say, from one who lives with Grace and watches her constantly, she inspires me!

I talked with Grace Monday about her fight to live and where it comes from. The last thing I want is for her to be fighting for me or Eric. But she assured me she is fighting for her life because that is what is in her heart to do. She believes she has purpose here on this Earth yet to be fulfilled. Yesterday, she caught my arm as she teetered between waking and sleep, with groggy eyes she said, “For my 21st birthday I want me and a group of my friends to go to Panama City Beach!” I told her that sounded like a fun trip, sorry I was not invited! She mentioned it again before the night was over. While Grace sees the declining condition of her natural body, (she confessed in the wee hours of the morning after several bouts of throwing up and hurting that she knew her physical body was wearing out), she continues to believe she will be healed. We continue to stand with her! Thank you all for your continued prayers and constant expectation for what is to come! We do not live by what our natural eye sees but by the proceeding Word of God! God Bless You!

(What I received yesterday- Grace’s life is not being stolen by the Enemy. Grace is being held in the palm of her Father. She placed herself in God’s hand. She has given her life to Him. She is not in the hand of the Enemy. Her life is not taken, it is given. What the Father chooses to do with her is between Him and Grace. Grace does not belong to me and Eric. We are just His stewards. She belongs to Him. Our hearts have to remain at peace with what He chooses. If He holds her close and He chooses not release her and carry her on to be with Him, we will rejoice. If He holds her close and chooses to release her back to us, we will rejoice! To God be the Glory!)

Never the less, the preceding Word of God we keep hearing is, “Live, little Girl, LIVE!”

Wednesday a Transitional Oncologist Nurse came to our home for a visit with Grace, being that she is not taking chemo at this time, just to check in with Grace to insure all is well with her. We had a wonderful visit. During her time with us, she asked Grace if there was anything in particular she wanted to do. She understood that Grace is expecting her miracle but wondered if she never felt released to get chemo and things continued to progress negatively, what was one wish she may have. Grace tilted her head sideways and looked up and thought a minute and said, “Hhmmmm…..I don’t really know because I haven’t given it much thought”. Then she said with a smile, “I keep forgetting I’m on a deadline!” We all busted out laughing with her.

She said she wanted to go to a concert. The lady talked about Jason Aldean and of course Grace said she would love to see him.
The day didn’t pass before the very sweet nurse, Samantha Barr, called us to let us know she had procured 4 tickets to the Jason Aldean concert this Saturday in Athens. She said a limo was coming to pick Grace and her friends up and drop them off, with an overnight stay included. How awesome is that?? God sure is good!!

Grace’s belly was really extended Wednesday, but her pain has become more manageable. (Every time she needs relief she asks us to pray for her. And without fail, EVERY TIME within minutes, her pain subsides!) She asked God again Wednesday, as she looked down at her swollen belly, if it was time for chemo. His response was the same as before, “Wait. “ So she is continuing to be patient in the process but with active faith and works. (She has seen her belly shrink since Wednesday evening). Tammy is still coming by every day to lay hands on her, anoint her and pray over her. Grace is loving their time together and looks forward to this time every day. She said she would not leave tomorrow until Tammy had come by and prayed for her!!

If you think about Grace tomorrow, please thank God for His faithfulness and power and ever sustaining grace that continues to flow to our Grace. May she enjoy every second of tomorrow and be pain and nausea free as she and her friends travel to Athens for a good time!! Grace is battling hard, but she continues to battle well!!