Everything is Different

He is different.

His smell is different.

The look in his eyes is different.



Everything is Different

photo by Muncie Fine Portraits


He doesn't laugh and smile as much as he used to.

He doesn't tease me as much now.

Where he once took care of me, I now take care of him.

He misses cooking.

I miss hearing him play guitar.

I miss hearing him sing.

For a long while, he didn't even like to have music playing in the house. It was hard for his brain to process. It was too overwhelming.

He vibrates now. The tremors make his hands shake, but they often cause his whole body to vibrate.

Our secret moments are different. The laughs are sometimes tears.

Our good nights are different.

There are no more walks along garden paths.


Everything is different.

Glioblastoma has changed so much… has taken so much…


But our God is still the same.

And He is trustworthy.

So how do you keep walking, keep trusting God the Father in the midst of so much different, so much hard?

How do you keep the sadness from swallowing you?


Glioblastoma is a beast. It ravages the body. The only effective treatments do the same. Trying to fight for more days on this earth is torturous. The medicine causes so many side effects. The treatment kills the immune system so that small bugs and viruses stand a much better chance at doing their worst to take you out.

Does God have a plan in this? Is there anything redeemable in this depth of suffering?

I believe the answer is a resounding yes. God works all things for good for those who love Him. But He never promised that we would understand it… or even see it. But if we believe that God is trustworthy, then we must believe that He will work it all out.

I don't understand this journey. And I don't really like it. But I see God's Hand in so many ways and in so many places. I know that He is present in our suffering.

And I know that He is present in yours.

And He doesn't like our suffering, either. That's why He changes it around into something good.

He won't waste one iota of the suffering of His children.




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