Fasting for Brynlee

I mentioned this awhile back, but we are fasting for Brynlee this Sunday, February 5th, and invite all who can to join us. Her scans and tests are coming up quickly, and we are hoping for good news regarding her cancer and any possible damage from the chemo. We are also hoping for some help with her physical challenges. Please know that I do have faith that all will be well with Brynlee. I have faith that blessings that have been given her will be fulfilled. I know that only through His will for Brynlee will she be made whole. I know that we will be guided down the path that we need to go. Thank you in advance for your love and support!

It's easy to get down as this journey with Brynlee goes on. I was having a rather exceptionally hard day this week when while blog stalking I ran across the blog of a family in Australia whose son was born essentially with no brain and was in a wheelchair and on a vent his entire 10 years of life and who passed away a few months ago. Well, her husband died last week from an apparent heart attack or heart issue leaving her with three boys to care for on her own. Just when I was feeling sorry for myself, Heavenly Father guides me to see that I am not the only one with struggles, and perhaps my struggles are miniscule compared to others. It's so easy to look around and ask the inevitable question of "why?" Why my child? Why our family? Why spinal cord damage? Why did we move into a split-level home with stairs in every direction if I was going to have a child unable to climb those stairs? Why couldn't we find the cancer before it paralyzed her? Why? I watched the story recently of a man who became paralyzed as a teen, and his father said that his son never asked why me. Yeah right, I thought. I'm sure he asked why at one time or another; he just didn't say it outloud or to his dad, and he probably didn't allow himself to dwell on it. Asking why really doesn't accomplish much. We have to take the cards we are dealt and make the most and the best of the situation no matter how hard it is or how unfair it may seem.  

People tell me I am strong. I think that I must have a different definition of the word than other people do. To me, I'm not strong. I'm numb. I do what I have to do. Anyone would do what they have to for their child. I see people doing it all of the time. I feel that if you think I'm strong, you don't really see me. You don't see the hellish nightmare I have been living in wishing I could wake up. You don't see the tears I cry wondering what we are going to do about it all. Strong is just not a word that I feel comfortable using to describe myself. Maybe someday, but not now. Now Brynlee, she is strong. She is my little hero. She has endured 8 rounds of high-dose chemotherapy and all that came with it with a smile on her face. She has been so strong, and I pray that she will be granted even more strength and that her little body will continue to be blessed to continue to show us all how truly amazing she is and to show us just how much she will accomplish (and hopefully prove some neurologists wrong).

By the way, am I the last one to know that they tattoo your body when they do radiation to put markings on so they do the radiation in the right spots? Brynlee can have a tattoo, but I can't? Not that I really want one, but in all seriousness it is just another reason to hope for no radiation.