Faces Around The Table

 As our children were growing up, we had dinner around the table every single night. Whether it was the actual table at home, a picnic blanket at a ballfield, or the tailgate as we traveled across the country, our kids knew there was no skipping a meal with all the faces around the table. It was imperative to raise kids who knew how to put away the rest of the world, eat with manners, and talk about their lives. We shared many laughs, debates, fears, hopes, dreams, and tears in that space.

We took turns every night praying because we wanted our kids to know how to have a conversation with Jesus and to give thanks. We believed that families who eat together stay together because they can be real, learn to be vulnerable, share, and be part of a unit that cares for one another. We welcomed others to the table often and hope we modeled the importance of that time together. Table time has been one of the greatest blessings in our lives, and I still love having people gathered around a table. So, pull up a seat at my table today, and let's get real. I am not going to sugarcoat my experience or check my face. Cancer treatments are incredibly inhumane, agonizingly painful, and overly terrifying. There are so many elements that have brought me to my knees in desperation. Chemotherapy alone causes bone pain and muscle aches that make it impossible to get comfortable in any position. The continuous nausea, even with four anti-nausea meds, makes it hard to maintain weight. The burning, blistering, and itching skin keeps me constantly in a state of unrest. Then the mouth sores that spread with each dose to the throat and cheeks make even the most bland foods feel like I am eating jalapenos straight out of the garden and swallowing razor blades. The extreme exhaustion grows with each round, and it takes work to even open my eyes at times. Then there is a thirst that is never quite quenched because everything tastes weird, and small sips are all my stomach will allow.

                                            

The Faces After Chemo

On my worst days, Gavin holds my hand and prays with me. We listen to praise music when I have no energy to utter my own prayer, and we allow the Holy Spirit to moan and groan for me. Jesus meets us every single time, sees us in our despair, but He does not keep us there. He helps me focus on what really matters and what keeps me going—the faces around our table.

The Faces Around Our Table

The faces of excitement over a new toy

Or smeared with frosting and pure joy

Enjoying a 2-year-old birthday cake

That his mama spent all day to make

The sister who drives 14 hours for a hug on a hard day

Centering of hearts, no need for words to get in the way

Taking me out for a much-needed sister-book date

A favorite pastime for hope, love, and joy to radiate 

Time to just sit with my friends, family, my mom, and my dad 

Working through the good, the hard, and the laughter in the sad

Sharing the love of Jesus, in which I am so deep

A place for each of those I love in prayer, I keep

Talking with friends on the phone or by my side 

Supporting each other through the pain of life, we confide

Praising God that I am surrounded by so many I call friend

Knowing that illness cannot break the bonds in the end

Trying on wigs with my sister and brother, too 

Laughter and hilarity began to ensue 

The joy of a weekend together after so long 

Made me feel like together we always belong 

Watching my daughter perform on the stage 

So beautiful, talented, and gifted in this age

The joy of recognizing this is why I will continue to fight 

To see her sing and do what she loves, beautiful and bright

Two so far away, yet always so close in heart 

Sharing breast cancer awareness to do their part

Pink tutus to challenge the Navy and the Marines, too

No question, we are blessed with the love of these two

A son who hugs and tells me I am beautiful each day

Makes my heart full as a goofy gnome war we play

A hard worker and family man makes me proud when I see his face

Plus, a bonus daughter, a gift filled with tender loving grace

A man so gentle, kind, and full of love 

Stands by my side, a gift from above 

Our vows, he stands by with dignity and grace

Helping me to take one step at a time in this race

These are the faces around our table whom I choose to see 

Not the disease, the broken body, or the pain that is still in front of me

I am praising Jesus for the faces around our table, both far and near

For the ones who support us in prayer, their love and support we hold dear

I am humbled and grateful for the faces around our table who see me as the woman of God I was created to be, not as the disease I am fighting within me. Jesus modeled what it means to gather, to serve, and to be vulnerable around the table. He met people in their brokenness, their hunger, their need—and He made room for them. I want our table to reflect that same kind of love. God created us for community, and our lives and problems are meant to be relational, not comparative. Healing begins when we walk through the good and the hard together. Sharing a meal and taking time to be real does not tire or weaken me. It reminds me that God's strength is made perfect in our weakness.

I also hope all who show up at our table know they will be welcomed, loved, and able to be vulnerable. So, please come as you are—enjoy a meal, laughter, and even some tears. Just know, our table always has room for more.