I am inspired by the warriors in my world, who take on Goliath and win simply by engaging the enemy!  As followers of Christ, we know we fight FROM victory, not for victory; therefore the battle is won!

Cancer is a monster. It does not play favorites. Anyone is fair game.

I am thankful for those who are dedicating their lives to finding a cure for cancer, for those who lovingly administer cancer treatments or skillfully perform surgeries with their gifted hands, for those who sit beside patients and usher them from this world into eternity, for strangers who raise money in support, for those who live on their knees in intercessory healing prayer and for those who take their personal cancer journey before the people, through caring bridges and blogs.

These stories have given the world hope for survival, strength in the fight, and focus on an eternal Home.

I am incredibly thankful for organizations like Beads of Courage, http://www.beadsofcourage.org , Make-A-Wish, http://wish.org , and St. Jude Children’s Research Hospital, https://www.stjude.org , for their efforts to take out the monster and love on the families in the fight!

Cancer has personally touched my life through the lives of my family and friends.

I was with my mom when she went home to Jesus. Cancer may have taken her life but it did not take her spirit. Her last words were, “It’s a real life story.” In her last lucid moments, she sat up, looked into the corner of the room and must have seen a glimpse of eternity, an eternity more real than what we see in the here and now.

I ran the St. Jude half marathon a few years ago on a team supporting a friend who’s daughter was in the fight. I was super inspired by the families, doctors and strangers lining the streets, cheering on the runners running with purpose.

I sat next to close friends as they dozed during chemo treatments and admired the shapes of one another’s shiny heads. It was literally the most precious thing to watch them connect and find joy and peace in the middle of the pain.

I watch as my children’s school community walks through the cancer fight, arm in arm with one of their coaches.  He is a mentor and a friend and a soon to be daddy.  I watched as his fraternity brothers showed up in droves to cheer him on in his coaching and stand beside him in the struggle.  Love has a beautiful way of moving in on pain, lightening the load and bringing joy and peace where it is greatly needed.

#WrightsFight

Together…All Out

https://www.gofundme.com/WrightWard

Our life stories are painting the present, are marked by the past and are laser focused on our future. Our stories offer hope.

Below is a fiction piece I wrote, although inspired by REAL LIFE STORIES.   #Inspiration comes from the stories of people I know personally and of those who bravely choose to publically share their journey with the world. Chad Carr’s precious life, although short, was not small. The Carr’s story inspired me and continues to inspire the world! #ChadTough

http://www.chadtough.org

If you are looking for a way to give back and make a difference this holiday season, I included several links above that will connect you with a few ways to do just that.

Happy Thanksgiving and Merry Christmas. Be a #HopeOfferer

“Hope’s Legacy”

Waterproof mascara was supposed to stay put, but mine seemed to make a run for it every time I popped a squat next to her.  Before she took her last breath, she made me promise to laugh, at least once, everyday. I have kept that promise, but I have also cried, at least once, everyday since she closed her eyes. The journal was my constant companion on these trips down memory lane. I was her scribe, recording her legacy.

Hope’s blurred vision had made it difficult to lock eyes with her “littles.” It was common to see her nestled up next to small, bedazzled or racecar-shaped recliners. She would carefully position herself between IVs and tiny arms, ask the “littles” if they wanted to rub her shiny head and make a wish, and then hold their swollen cheeks, while kissing them on the head, saying, “I love you. God loves you. You are smart, wonderful and beautiful (or handsome). Got it? Good!”

Hope could not cure cancer, but Hope could cast out fear like yesterday’s garbage. Her fearless focus zeroed in like a missile on the most frightened “little” in the room. Hope was well aware that there were some things we could not change. But she was also well aware that there were some that we could. Hope knew her response to the “C” word that was ravaging her brain determined her reach with the “littles.” Therefore, she chose joy.

Hope was a jack-of-all-trades, but sewing was her favorite. She had a closet full of costumes, not run-of-the-mill Halloween costumes, but “hand stitched with love” costumes that she wore every time she handed the “littles” their Beads of Courage. These special beads helped them record, tell and own their stories of survival. Hope used her handcrafted costumes to record, tell and own the legacy she was leaving behind.

It was a celebration like no other. The “littles” had made personalized butterfly beads to reflect the life of their precious Hope. The nurses held back tears, as they paraded Hope’s costumes up to the microphone. They had memorized their lines and it was curtain call:

The ballerina: “Dance everyday; leave it all on the stage. Life is a book. Dance on each page.”

The artist:   “You are a masterpiece, created to create. Your canvas is before you. Start now; don’t wait!”

The clown: “This world is full of pain and strife. Bring others joy with your life.”

The dove: “A dove has laser focus, not distracted by a stranger. Do what you can for ONE; you are a world-changer.”

The butterfly: “If you’re crawling or you’re stuck, hold on, you’ll make it through. Your wings are coming out, that beautiful butterfly is you.”

Lost in the memory, I was unaware that I had been journaling. The mascara had stopped running. Death had lost its sting. Hope’s legacy would not go wasted.