Fight Like A Girl. I see this all over. Sweatshirts, t-shirts, hats, blogs, cancer websites, you name it, this slogan/battle cry is printed on it. I’m embarrassed to admit that I didn’t get the whole “Fight Like A Girl” concept until today. Before, I thought that the saying was kind of an oxymoron. On the bus, a common “put down” for a rival boy was that he “fights like a girl”. It wasn’t a nice label. Everyone would laugh and point their fingers at the recipient of that saying. Let’s just say it wasn’t a saying used with a compliment in mind.
We’re on week two of the clinical trial. Three treatments down, too many more to go. As I watch my wife go through chemo again and everything that comes along with the treatments, I finally understand what it means. Finally. There’s absolutely no doubt that men are weaker than women when it comes to health. When I get sick, the world ends. I lay on the couch all day and I make people wait on me. If I went through half of what she did, I would certainly be a blubbery mess. I guess I could only wish I could fight like a girl. “He fights like a girl”. That would be the highest honor someone could bestow on me.
At times when we can’t feel God or feel far away from Him, He shows back up through the kind acts of others. A gentle touch to the shoulder. A prayer. A kind word. A gesture. Constantly, we’re reminded of the goodness of people through all this. Some people don’t even know us, but yet they give and encourage us in ways that we could never imagine. Our freezer is brimming with meals for me to cook while Lindy is away in Ann Arbor. Cards arrive almost daily filled with donations and gift cards to help with the added expenses. Goodie plates, fruit, flowers, letters; it’s all here. Ironing, crafts for the kids, lawn care service – done. Friends at Herman Miller put together a huge care package for the family and presented it to me last week. Thank you does not seem sufficient.
Since we’ve been praying for complete submission, my heart has been unsettled and restless. I don’t know what that means and why I am conflicted. Perhaps one day I’ll find out.