This morning on the way to work I was listening to David Crowder...”Joy and pain, sun and rain, You’re the same, Oh You never let go.” Last night in our youth leaders meeting Chuck shared with us from Psalm 136. We read it out loud responsively from The Message. I’d encourage you to read it out loud yourself. This morning as I was writing my mom back in response to an update she sent, this is what came to mind...What a gracious God we have who grips us with his steadfast, covenant-deep, lovingkindness. His love never never quits.
When things are going well
His love never quits
When my mom had her biopsy
His love never quits
When she believed for God to heal her
His love never quits
When she talked to the doctor and found out she had breast cancer
His love never quits
During Christmas when I was there
His love never quits
When we had to learn to use words like cancer, chemo, radiation, oncology...
His love never quits
When we all had meltdowns
His love never quits
When she was encouraged
His love never quits
When we all cried
His love never quits
When we couldn’t sleep
His love never quits
When she agonized over her decision
His love never quits
When people continued to ask how my mom was doing
His love never quits
When we were so afraid
His love never quits
When I bought a plane ticket
His love never quits
When I saw the sunrise from my window seat on the plane
His love never quits
When my mom had the lumpectomy
His love never quits
When people prayed for her and for me
His love never quits
When my mom was so chatty after surgery
His love never quits
When I had to say goodbye
His love never quits
When she was brave for the radiation
His love never quits
When Kate went to see her
His love never quits
When we all waited and waited and waited
His love never quits
When I had to teach Deuteronomy 7
His love never quits
When God met with me on the Katy Freeway
His love never quits
When his Word didn’t seem to true to my eyes
His love never quits
When I crawled into his lap and looked into his face
His love never quits
When we heard 9% chance of it coming back
His love never quits
When we realized that meant 91% chance it WON’T
His love never quits
When my mom waits again to talk about chemo
His love never quits
When Kate and Zach did a little devotional last night
His love never quits
This morning
His love never quits
As I was saying, last Friday night my sister's family and I headed out to a beautiful park in old Katy with about a million other people (okay, maybe just half a mil) for the west Houston Relay for Life. Basically, it was just a chance to enjoy the outdoors, get some
exercise, show support for cancer survivors and their caretakers, and raise some money for the American Cancer Society. My sister and I had been wanting to do something like this for a while and were excited 
when her Sunday School class was getting a team together. I think we just felt like it was important to be involved in this whole cancer thing (I still don't really know what words to use for it) and I guess just be a part of the huge community of individuals and families who have been
hugely impacted by this disease. So...my brother-in-law, nephew, sis and I put on our walking shoes to go see what all this hubub was about. Let me just say my sister and I were completely unprepared for what the night would really be like. We just didn't expect it to be emotional. I'm not sure why, I guess we just didn't think about it. However, there were so many aspects of the evening that seemed to get down inside of us. Seeing so many people in their
matching Relay for Life t-shirts had an impact. Seeing all the people wearing their purple shirts signifying they are "cancer survivors" had an impact. Listening to the personal stories people shared had an impact. Hearing announcements of the youngest survivor (11 years old I think) and the oldest survivor (An 82 year old man who drove his family to the event) had an impact. Seeing hundreds of lit up
luminaries in honor and in memory of those who either have fought or are still fighting cancer lined up all along the pathway had a powerful and significant impact on both of us. I think the most emotional part of the evening for us was 
watching the group of survivors kicking-off the night as they made their initial trek around the path. We all stood on the sidelines and cheered for them as they physically took one step after another and also to encourage them as they bravely take steps along such an arduous physical, mental, and spiritual journey of life after a cancer diagnosis. Huge. My sister and I, with just a little bravery, tried to hold back tears and smile and clap as they all walked past us. Our mom was far away, but seemed very very close in that moment. It was so powerful to both of us to feel a connection with this 
community of people who have been impacted by cancer - people who have felt just like us, who were completed blindsided by this intruder into their families, who have cried together, who have experienced defeats and triumphs, people who have shared this journey. At moments the weight of it was unbearable to think of
all the pain and struggle these people have and continue to walk through. Yet somehow at the same time, the burden seemed a little bit lighter when shared with so many people. Belonging is huge, even when it's a club like this one. So, we did our little part and walked our hour together from 8:00-9:00 p.m. as the sun began to set. As always, my nephew was the life of the party as he walked, did fancy dance moves, played on the playground and drank 4 mini smoothies! We walked with the crowd and read the names on the luminaries. We ate barbeque. We laughed. We sang along with the entertainer singing, "I Will Survive!" We were proud of our mom. We shed a few tears. We shared in the moment of silence. We prayed. We listened. We watched. We participated. And mostly, we just belonged.
