Cling to Hope

I studied the newly green trees outside my daughter’s second-story apartment window. “The city’s beautiful in the spring,” Danielle said.

But spring hadn’t brought me to the city. My daughter Danielle had been diagnosed with breast cancer. We live thousands of miles apart. She’d kept me updated on her treatment plan and assured me she had everything she needed—the best medical care and the best friends to go with her to appointments. What she didn’t have was me. “I’m coming for your first rounds of chemo,” I said.

Her voice broke when she said, “Thanks, Mom.”

I continued looking out her window, but turned every few minutes to watch the gentle rise and fall of her chest. As she rested, deadly chemicals worked to destroy the cancer in her body.

Yet, life outside the apartment continued. Trees and flowers bloomed. Bird songs mixed with the sounds of the city.

As I weather this season with Danielle, I hold to the new thing God is doing in her life. Across the room she stirred, opened her eyes and smiled. There is beauty in the city and in my daughter’s eyes.

Hope. We need to cling to the new thing God is doing. Even when we don’t understand.