Today was my friend, Debi’s, last radiation treatment for breast cancer.  She is currently cancer free.  As Christians we are commanded to mourn with those who mourn and rejoice with those who rejoice.  And today was a day for rejoicing.  As we drove to her last appointment, the sun was out, the cherry trees were in full blossom, it felt as though all of Portland was rejoicing with us.  We had made plans for dinner out and flowers that evening.  The nurses wished Debi well and said only Thomas had to return tomorrow so they could keep getting their baby fix. 

We walked down that hallway a final time.  We were met by a grown, but young man in a wheelchair moaning and weeping.  He was in so much pain.  It stopped us in our tracks.  We didn’t know what to say - just looked at each other.  Our smiles abruptly stopped.  It was a stark reminder of what could have been.  Cancer can mean death.  It does mean death for so many.  My heart was filled with sorrow for this man and at the same time filled with gratefulness for Debi.  I don’t understand.  Pain for some, healing for others.  We live in a broken world. 

Debi and I and many friends sat around the table that night.  There were many smiles for Debi - much rejoicing.  I looked around and wondered how many really understood what we were celebrating.  Perhaps some.  Some, I’m sure, have a cancer story of their own.  Some, thankfully not.  Sometimes it’s nice to be innocent.  But I thought of the man in the wheelchair and the cancer stories in my family.  And I squeezed my squirmy son a little tighter.  Thank-you, God, for these precious days.