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I don’t have any wise answers.

I don’t know what the outcome will be.

I do know how it feels like a surprise punch in the gut to receive bad news, or at least news we hoped would be different

I don’t plan on quoting lots of Scriptures to you.

I don’t plan on downplaying your emotions.

I do plan on standing with you and hopefully bolstering your strength.

Take my hand, we can even link arms like when we were kids and played Red Rover,

“Red rover, red rover, hey cancer come over

We’re ready for you

Me and my friend here

The one who’s not alone

In fact, if you look on the other side of her you’ll see some of our other friends linking up too, our line stretching and growing

In fact, if you look more closely you’ll see Jesus down there on the end.  He’s our anchor.

You’ll have a hard time knocking us over or breaking through.

There’s too much love on our side, God-given peace and strength you can’t understand or explain.  You might as well give up and go home.”

To the enemy, with the overwhelming love and tenacity building in my heart I almost feel I could take you on myself

To my friend, you know who you are

If you get tired or sad or afraid lean on me as I lean on Jesus.

Look!  There’s hope ahead.  Healing in ways only God can dream up and bestow.  Love and faith, freedom from fear.  Laughter and dare we say…joy.

Nothing, and I mean NOTHING, can tear you away from God’s fiercely faithful and loving embrace.

Rest in that truth tonight, my sweet friend.  I asked God if every thought of you could be considered a prayer and He said “sure.”

I love you.