The Dining Room is Empty

There's no blow-up mattress sitting in the middle of the room between the Hello Kitty table and baby doll changing station and play kitchen set-up. There's no suitcase with precious belongings opened in the corner. There's no black purse sitting off by the side of the mattress. There's no tall bottle of water perched for those midnight sips. There's no extra towel in the downstairs bathroom. There's no pair of glasses sitting on the bookshelf that don't belong to my people. There's no additional giggle in the air. There's . . . no Hudsy here anymore.

This morning as I awoke to my usual routine of "opening" up for the day, I was slapped with the very empty reality that Hudsy was no longer here. She has gone. She has returned home. Our arms are aching to hug her. Our hearts are aching to love her. Our souls are aching to laugh with her. Our eyes are aching to see her!

During my recovery time, we received a very wonderful sacrificial gift in the coming of Hudsy to our home. She came to love on each of my babes. She came to help The Main Man keep things going. She came to love on me and get me over this hurdle of a fourth cancer surgery. She came to be the grandma she is to my children and the mother she is to me. She is not, however, a blood relative. She has made a choice to love us like none other have. She has loved, bathed, cleaned, cooked, comforted, marketed, driven, nurtured, laughed, listened, re-focused each of our challenged hearts, bodies, and minds. For this, we are blessed beyond measure, blessed beyond what words can describe, blessed beyond what a heart can contain.

While there is much sadness that she is gone, there is much joy in the fact that in just three days, it will be 21 days since surgery . . . nearly three weeks have passed. Incredible milestones have been accomplished in this monumental healing process. And, though there remains considerable recovery still to conquer, strength yet to regain . . . health is returning to this slaughtered body of mine. Tears seem to flow far to easily (probably somewhat due to the hysterectomy), yet there's so much I can do without help.

Oh, Praise be to the Lord!

On Tuesday, the 25th (James's 17th birthday), we'll meet with the surgeon for a post-surgery follow up visit. On this day, we will receive pathology results, as well as the projected "treatment" plan. While we already have a vague understanding of what this entails, specifics will be laid out before us. What will the recipe be of radiation and chemotherapy? Of even greater concern, however, is . . . is this the Lord's leading? Is there another plan He has for the healing of my body? Presently, we are waiting upon Him for this direction. We've been in this place before and while it's not our favorite place to be, we know the leading of the Lord. He does not work in a spirit of confusion, but a peace that passes all understanding. Have you experienced that peace before? I have many times. It's unexplainable and magnificent! Rejoice with me, won't you, for who He IS!