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On Feeling Broken

A little over eight months ago, I wrote a post titled, "On Cancer and Its Ugliness." Tonight, really, I find myself torn, broken, and overjoyed.

I breathed a sigh of relief and exclaimed a "Thank you, Jesus" as I realized that Kevin is cancer free. At the end of a very long day, it was the news I was hoping and praying for. Praise the LORD for his faithfulness and answered prayer. A little while later, I saw the post on Facebook from Kevin, and again, I could do nothing but smile.

As I refreshed my news feed though, I literally cried out to God. It is amazing how quickly our attitudes toward cancer can change. On one hand, I am so happy. On the other, I am numb. Sweet Molly is quickly losing her battle, and although I have never met this friend of a friend, I could do nothing but cry bitter, angry tears. Molly, just eight short months ago was a healthy, happy five year old. DIPG is quickly claiming her life, and I just can't stop asking, "Why, God? Why?" The survival rate for DIPG is basically zero percent. Most people, after diagnosis, don't live past eighteen months. No cure.

In August 2012, I remember when Riley lost his battle after bravely fighting for thirteen months with DIPG.

Molly Dolly, how my heart breaks for you, sweet girl! I keep trying to remind myself that Molly KNOWS her God, thus, there's nothing to fear. She will be cancer-free walking the streets of gold with her Heavenly Father.

The whole thing, though makes me sick to my stomach! Why Molly? Why the Little family? Must they go on without their baby girl? Six is too young- her innocence is refreshing. Why must she endure such a battle? Why should they be talking about hospice?

Like I said, I have never met Molly Little, but I was one of the first to follow her story. Just yesterday, I looked up "DIPG survivors." Out of the 20+ kids on the survivor page, only one of them is actually still living. In the back of my mind, I knew that Molly's end was near. The cancer is progressing even more rapidly than little Riley's. Still, I held onto the hope that today's MRI might show something miraculous.

Just yesterday, I made the decision to donate money to Molly and her family. Little did I know that just 12 hours later, I'd be chosen as the winner of one of two iPad minis as a ewsult. It almost makes me sick, honestly.

I just can't help but be so angry right now. Rather than continue with the negativity, I'm choosing to end with this:

We will never know when we'll take our last breath, we'll never know the trials we'll face in this journey called life. Appreciate those in your life, love even when it's the hardest thing you'll do, cherish the little moments- the Skype dates, the text messages, and the phone calls. Hold onto all of it. In the blink of an eye, it could all be gone.


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