Giving Thanks

This is what happens when you find out your friend has a brain tumor: You look at the little orange pinch pot your Kindergartner made for you--the one you keep paper clips in--and you think it's the most beautiful thing in the world. You think that if you could take one thing with you to heaven you would choose that little work of art. You hear the demands for more Cheerios and the splash of milk exiting sippy cup and it's music to your ears. You love your husband so much that you feel panicky when he leaves for work and you smell his shirts while you're sorting the laundry. You give thanks to God for every annoying, exhausting, stressful, glorious moment of your life because those moments are reminders you are living.

My friend had surgery to remove her brain tumor. The surgery was a success, and the doctors are optimistic about her recovery. I thank God for His mercy, for giving her to me as a friend, for the time I was able to spend with her over the past weekend. Most of all I thank God for this not-so-subtle reminder to appreciate all I have.

- Tiffany

A Request For Prayer

I received some news recently that has consumed me and caused me to neglect the simple, cathartic pleasure of posting in my poor, newborn blog. One of my dearest friends has a brain tumor.

This woman and I have been in each other's lives since I was ten years old. She is the sort of person with whom I have very little in common with as an adult, and if the truth be told we may never have become friends if our relationship didn't start so long ago when we were both just forging our personalities. What we have is the shared experience of surviving childhood in dysfunctional families and navigating our broke twenties. She was there for me the long years I spent in a useless relationship. I was there for her when the father of her son died. We have fought and made up a million times and when I recently asked her why she puts up with me she said, "Because it's meant to be."

I'm going home to California tomorrow morning to be with her. All of our friends who have stood the test of time--a small, but irreplacable group--is converging on our sorry hometown of Stockton, California. We're coming from New Jersey, Reno, Idaho. We're going to hang out, tell stories, laugh that tumor into submission. And when that's over and I'm alone with no one watching but my heavenly Father, I'm going to pray.

Faith really comes in handy during times like these.

Tiff